_Lady._ Not at all, my dear sir. _It's a roast partridge, cold, for lunch._
UNPLEASANTLY SUGGESTIVE NAMES OF "CURE" PLACES ABROAD.--_Bad Gastein._ Which must be worse than the first day's sniff at Bad-Eggs-la-Chapelle.
ROTATORY KNIFE (AND FORK) MACHINES.--Pullman dining cars.
THE LINE WHICH IS OFTEN DRAWN.--The Equator.
[Illustration: THOROUGH BUT NOT PEDANTIC. (_Overheard at the Louvre._)--_American Tourist_ (_suspiciously_). "Say, guide, haven't we seen this room before?"
_Tourist._ "Well, see here. We want to see everything, but we don't want to see anything twice!"]
[Illustration: MODERN ACCOMPLISHMENTS.--_Captain Brown_ (_narrating his trip to the Continent_). "Then, of course, we ran down to Granada, and saw the Alhambra----"
_Captain Jinks_ (_untravelled athlete_). "No!! What, have they got one there too!!"]
[Illustration: FILIAL ANXIETY. "Going to Paris to-morrow, Tom!"
"My poor old governor's taken ill there!"
_Sympathiser._ "Sorry you look so seedy after your holiday, old chap!"
_Too Energetic Sight-seer._ "Well, I am a bit done up, but the doctor says that with rest and great care I may be well enough to have a run-round as usual next year."]
[Illustration: _Gushing Young Lady_ (_to Mr. Dunk, who has just returned from Rome_). "They say, Mr. Dunk, that when one sets foot in Rome for the first time, one experiences a profound feeling of awe. The chaos of ruined grandeur, the magnificent associations, seem too much for one to grasp. Tell me, oh tell me, Mr. Dunk, what did _you_ think of it all?"
_Mr. Dunk_ (_deliberately, after considering awhile_). "_Very_ nice!"]
A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE.--_Miss Tomboy._ Mamma, I think those French women were beastly rude.
_Mother._ You mustn't speak like that of those ladies, it's very wrong. And how often have I told you not to say "beastly"?
_Miss Tomboy._ Well, they _were_ rude. They called me a little cabbage (_mon petit chou_). The next time they do that I shall call them old French beans.
[Illustration: THE TOURIST SEASON. HOTEL BRIGANDAGE]
I am an unadventurous man, And always go upon the plan Of shunning danger where I can.
And so I fail to understand Why every year a stalwart band Of tourists go to Switzerland,
And spend their time for several weeks, With quaking hearts and pallid cheeks, Scaling abrupt and windy peaks.