Literary Lapses

The waiter turned to Jones. "I guess I'll take the same," he said simply, and added; "and you might bring a quart of champagne at the same time." And nowadays, when Jones and Robinson meet, the memory of the tar barrel and the piano box is buried as far out of sight as a home for the blind under a landslide. A Model Dialogue In which is shown how the drawing-room juggler may be permanently cured of his card trick. The drawing-room juggler, having slyly got hold of the pack of cards at the end of the game of whist, says: "Ever see any card tricks? Here's rather a good one; pick a card." "Thank you, I don't want a card." "No, but just pick one, any one you like, and I'll tell which one you pick." "You'll tell who?" "No, no; I mean, I'll know which it is don't you see? Go on now, pick a card." "Any one I like?" "Yes." "Any colour at all?" "Yes, yes." "Any suit?" "Oh, yes; do go on." "Well, let me see, I'll--pick--the--ace of spades." "Great Caesar! I mean you are to pull a card out of the pack." "Oh, to pull it out of the pack! Now I understand. Hand me the pack. All right--I've got it." "Have you picked one?" "Yes, it's the three of hearts. Did you know it?" "Hang it! Don't tell me like that. You spoil the thing. Here, try again. Pick a card." "All right, I've got it."