It is the common lot of those who are honest to be
misunderstood, and, for myself, I wish to claim no exemption from the
rule. My one aim is to benefit my readers, and to advance truth. For
this I would sacrifice the smiles of Courts, and incur the shallow
sneers of the grovelling, chowder-headed horde of flunkeys who sit in
high places. My work bears witness to my merit. Need I say more?
* * * * *
[Illustration: SERIOUS BALL-ROOM FLIRTATIONS.
_Lord Algernon_. "I CAN SAFELY RECOMMEND OUR TUSSORE SILKS, MRS.
GREEN. _WON'T_ YOU GIVE THEM A TRIAL? WE ALLOW A DISCOUNT OF FIFTEEN
PER CENT, FOR CASH, YOU KNOW."
_Sir Reginald_. "NOW _DO_ LET ME SEND YOU A COUPLE OF DOZEN OF OUR
EXTRA DRY CHAMPAGNE AT SEVENTY-TWO SHILLINGS, DEAR LADY MIDAS. I'M
_SURE_ SIR GORGIUS WILL LIKE IT."
_Captain de la Vere de Vere_. "OH, IF I _COULD_ BUT INDUCE YOU TO GET
YOUR HUSBAND TO INSURE HIS LIFE IN OUR OFFICE, MRS. VAN TRONCK!--THE
BONUSES ARE QUITE EXCEPTIONAL."]
* * * * *
"TOO MANY COOKS--!"
_A BRET-HARTEISH BALLAD._
MORAL BILL BUTTONS _SINGS_:--
I reside at Greenlands (Henley), and my name is MORAL BILL;
I'm a model of well-meaning, which makes up for want of skill;
And I'll tell, in simple language, what I know about the shine
Which demoralised our kitchen, and which bust up our Big Dine.
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