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Various

"Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, January 23, 1892"

Now
I do object to talking shop, I am not a lawyer, nor yet am I an actor;
I do not like people who talk about their cases, or their parts.
It would he unbecoming to start a conversation on the authenticity
of "HENRY GORING's _Letter_." Then I never go to the play, I do
not even know which of the Royal Family is which: modern pictures
are the abominations of desolation to me; in fact, I have no
"conversation-openings." A young lady, compelled to sit beside me,
has been known to hum tunes, and telegraph messages of her forlorn
condition to her sister, at the opposite end of the table. I pitied
her, but was helpless. My impression is that she was musical, poor
soul! When I do talk, things become actively intolerable. I have
no tact. To have tact, is much like being good at Halma, or whist,
or tennis, or chess. You must be able to calculate the remote
consequences of every move, and all the angles and side-walls from
which the conversational hall may bound. It is needless to say that,
at whist, I never know in the least what will happen in consequence of
the card I play; and life is very much too short for the interminable
calculations of chess.


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