When you have anew suit you feel nervy and keen
And ready for any old fate;
There's a snap to your step and a smile on your mien,
You're the cock of the walk and the king of the scene,
Your brain is alert and elate!
Your joys win the day and your glooms have to scoot
When you have a new suit.
There's many a failure been turned to success
By clothes that are natty and new;
A tailor ean govern our moods more or less,
And it's hard to be glum in new glad rags, I guess,
Though the bill for the suit's overdue,
(This pattern, I think, is decidedly "cute"
I have a new suit!)
A major on service in India em
ployed a native cook who was
very skilful with curries, but not
so capable with European dishes.
On one occasion the major re
ceived a present of some rhubarb,
and, being fond of this delicacy,
he handed it to the cook. "You
know what to do with that,
cook?" he said, and the native
signified that he did. Dinner
time arrived, and the major re
turned from parade to be met by
the cook, with many salaams.
"Sticks damp, sahib !" he said dis
tractedly. "No dinner ready. Fire
won't light!" Then the major
went to the kitchen, and to his in
tense annoyance found that his
cook had been trying to light the
fire with the precious rhubarb.
THE FAITHFUL SERVANT
"I am dreadfully sorry your
mistress is not at home, James.
Be sure and tell her that I left my
"Yes, mum I'll take it right
up to her."
"What would you call the color
of Mrs. Swiftley's hair?" "I think
I'd call it fickle."
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