TWO LAST WORDS TO SWITZERLAND
Reading edition
(By a British Tourist and Family Man)
On Uri's lake, in Küsnacht's dell, What is the thought can almost quell Thy patriot memory, oh Tell? Hotel! Whether by blue crevasse we reel, Or list the avalanche's peal, What question blends with all we feel?— Wie Viel?
LUSUS NATURÆ
Excursion Tourist. "Most extr'or'nary cre'char!"
Facetious Rustic. "Ah! that a be, measter, bred on this 'ere wery fa-arm he wor, tew!"
More English as she is Wrote.—At an hotel at Socrabaja in Java is this notice:—
"From the hours fixed for meals on no account will be deviated. For damage to furniture the proprietor will avenge himself on the person committing the same."
"Tired Nature."—A yawning gulf.
OUR BORES, NATIVE AND FOREIGN
"Ach! I schbeague Enklish not vell, not vell at all! Pot, py a leadle bractice, I imbrove ver kvick! Vait till I haf talk to you for a gopple of hours, and you shall see!"
A SCENE AT THE "LUCULLUS"
Mrs. Blunderby. "Now, my dear Monty, let me order the luncheon ar-la-fraingsy. Gassong! I wish to begin—as we always do in Paris, my dears—with some chef-d'œuvres—you understand—some chef-d'œuvres."
[Emile, the waiter, is in despair. It occurs to him, however, presently that the lady probably meant "Hors d'œuvres," and acts accordingly.