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Various

"Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 152, January 10, 1917"

"]
* * * * *
OVER-WEIGHT.
_Scene: A London Terminus_.
_Porter_ (_with an air of finality_). It weighs 'undred-and-four pounds.
You can't take it, mum.
_Lady Traveller_. Oh, I must take it.
[_Porter is obliged by an irritation of the head to remove his cap, but
does not speak._
_Lady Traveller_. It's all right. I know the manager of the line, and he
would pass it for me.
_Her Friend_. Isn't your friend manager of the Great Southern?
_Lady Traveller_ (_sharply_). He has a great deal to do with all these
railways now. (_To Porter, hopefully, but not very confidently_) That will
be all right.
_Porter_. Very sorry, mum. It can't be done.
_Lady Traveller_. My friend the manager would be very much annoyed at my
being stopped like this. Only four pounds, too. Why, it's nothing.
[_Porter removes his cap again on account of further irritation._
_Lady Traveller_ (_to her Friend_). I don't know what I'm to do. (_To
Porter_) What am I to do?
_Porter_ (_deliberately_). You must open it and take somethink out.
_Lady Traveller_. I can't open it here.
_Porter_ (_ignoring this_). Somethink weighing a bit over four pounds.
_Lady Traveller_. But I can't do it here.
_Porter_ (_ignoring this_). Pair o' boots or somethink.
_Lady Traveller_ (_to her Friend_). He seems to think my boots weigh four
pounds.
_Her Friend_. Haven't you got two pairs?
_Lady Traveller_ (_sourly_). Yes, but two pairs of my boots wouldn't weigh
four pounds.


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