hands and knees on the grass plot at the feet of the lady, pulled
himself along biting at the grass like a half-starved animal.

"My good man," the lady said, "why do you eat the grass in that way? Are
you really so hungry?"

"Madam," cried the man, looking up, "I am starving!"

"Poor man, poor man!" remarked the lady, with a look of pity. "My eyes
fill with tears--my heart bleeds for you. Go round to the kitchen door,
go round to the kitchen door, the grass is longer there!"

The other referred to the darkie railway hand who had by degrees worked
into a position at the depot (pronounced day-po, de-pot or de-poo),
where he strutted about in a costume embellished with gold lace. An
English tourist (oh, those poor fools--English tourists!) was standing
by the rails as an express train flew past at ninety miles an
hour--s-c-h-w-r-r-r-r! and in a second was lost to sight.

"Ah!" remarked the English tourist to the gentleman of colour. "The--ah,
train--ah, didn't--ah, stop--ah, here--ah!"

"No sir, nebber eben hesitated!"

[Illustration]

On May the 17th, 1888, I gave a dinner at the Garrick Club to my
fellow-workers on _Punch_, and others,--a merry meeting of twenty-four.
Mr. F. C. Burnand was at the other end of the table, and as the _souffle
glace aux fleurs d'oranges_ heralded the near approach of the end of the
dinner I noticed a mischievous look in Burnand's eyes, and it struck me
he intended to make a speech! As there was no "object" in my giving the
dinner except a purely social one,--in fact to reciprocate the
hospitality of some present whom I could not ask to my house in
consequence of my wife's long illness,--I naturally felt extremely
anxious when I saw that Mr. Burnand intended introducing speeches. I had
sent a message to him that I wished for none. My evening would be spoilt
by speeches, and even the witticisms of Burnand could not save it--yet
he was incorrigible. I must pay him back! A happy thought struck me as
he was speaking. I sent for note-paper. I, unobserved, tore it into
strips and slipped the pieces into my breast-pocket. When I rose I acted
being extremely nervous, assured my friends that I had implored the
"Vice" not to introduce speeches, and with (true) feeling implored them
not to credit the "chicken and champagne" the "Vice" had more than
hinted at, and of course said I was unaccustomed to speaking, etc. I
then fumbled about my pockets, and nervously produced my "notes,"
carefully la