THOSE BREETCHES.

Observer, Volume 6, Issue 152, 11 August 1883, Page 3

THOSE BREETCHES.

Jones and Smith sat beside each other at the same table tho othor day, in a Queen-street diningroom. Jonos is something 1 in an office, and Brown is a commission agent. They were utter strangers to each other. Brown ordered soup from a dapper little waiter, who was bustling about like a flying postman. A considerable time elapsed, and Brown, having an appointment with a man who wanted to sell Imperials, became impatient. At last, however, the Mercury appeared with the long-ox-pected soup, and Brown clutched it with such eagerness that he, capsized it over Jones's new pants. Jonos was furious. " You have scalded me, sir," he shrieked, " and ruined a now pair of trousers." " But, sir, I will cheerfully pay for them ; be good enough to give me your card, and I will send the money to your hotol." '_' No, sir ; I must have the money immediately," said Jones, who saw no othor means of replacing tho spoiled unmentionables . 4, Brown drew two pounds from his purse, and Jones raked them in. Then said Brown, in a calm, imperturbable tone. "Now you have been paid, I hope you have too much the delicacy of a gentleman to remain in my pants. You know those pants are my property,, and I insist on their

immediate dolivery to me. JLhere was a roar ot laughter, in the midst of which Jones made a bolt for the door, and disappeared. Ho has since been reported on the sick-list.