Jerrold and a company of literary friends were out in the country. In the course of their walk, they stopped to notice the gambols of an ass's foal. A very sentimental poet present vowed that he should like to send the little thing as a present to his mother. "Do," Jerrold replied, "and tie a piece of paper round its neck, bearing this motto,—'When this you see, remember me.'"
The Duke of Norfolk of Foote's time was much addicted to the bottle. On a masquerade night, he asked Foote what new character he should go in. "Go sober!" said Foote.
Dr. Macknight, who was a better commentator than preacher, having been caught in a shower of rain, entered the vestry soaked with wet. As the time drew on for divine service he became much distressed, and ejaculated over and over, "O, I wish that I was dry! Do you think I'm dry? Do you think I'm dry eneuch noo?" To this his jocose colleague, Dr. Henry, the historian, returned: "Bide a wee, doctor, and ye'se be dry eneuch when ye get into the pu'pit."
A certain Scotchman, who is not a member of any temperance society, being asked by a dealer to purchase some fine old Jamaica, dryly answered, "To tell you the truth, Mr. ——, I canna' say I'm very fond of rum; for if I tak' mair than six tum'lers, it's very apt to gi'e me a headache."
Perhaps the best concentrated specimen of blunders, such as occur in all nations, but which, of course, are fathered upon Paddy wholesale, as if by common consent, is the following:—
Copy of a Letter, written during the Rebellion by Sir ——, an Irish Member of Parliament, to his friend in London.
My dear Sir,—
Having now a little peace and quietness, I sit down to inform you of the dreadful bustle and confusion we are in from these blood-thirsty rebels, most of whom are, I'm glad to say, killed and dispersed. We are in a pretty mess, can get nothing to eat, nor wine to drink, except whiskey, and when we sit down to dinner we are obliged to keep both hands armed. Whilst I write this, I hold a sword in each hand and a pistol in the other. I concluded from the beginning that this would be the end of it, and I see I was right, for it is not half over yet. At present there are such goings on that everything is at a standstill. I should have answered your letter a fortnight ago, but I did not receive it till this morning. Indeed, scarcely a mail arrives safe without being robbed. No longer ago than yesterday the coach with the mails from Dublin was robbed near this town; the bags had been judiciously left behind for fear of accident, and by good luck there was nobody in it but two outside passengers, who had nothing for the thieves to take. Last Thursday notice was given that a gang of rebels was advancing here under the French standard, but they had no colors, nor any drums except bagpipes. Immediately every man in the place, including women and children, ran out to meet them. We soon found our force much too little; we were far too near to think of retreating. Death was in every face, but to it we went, and, by the time half our little party were killed, we began to be all alive again. Fortunately the rebels had no guns, except pistols, cutlasses, and pikes, and as we had plenty of muskets and ammunition, we put them all to the sword. Not a soul of them escaped, except some that were drowned in an adjacent bog, and, in a very short time, nothing was to be heard but silence. Their uniforms were all different colors, but mostly green. After the action we went to rummage a sort of camp, which they had left behind them. All we found was a few pikes, without heads, a parcel of empty bottles full of water, and a bundle of French commissions filled up with Irish names. Troops are now stationed all round the country, which exactly squares with my ideas.
I have only time to add that I am in great haste.
Yours truly,
—— ——.
P.S.—If you do not receive this, of course it must have miscarried, therefore I beg you will write to let me know.
(Spoken between the Third and Fourth Acts of Cowley's Tragedy "The Fall of Sparta.")
So ungrateful was the sound of "Wilkes and No. 45" (the famous number of the "North Briton") to George III., that about 1772, George IV., then a mere boy, having been chid for some fault, and wishing to take his boyish revenge, stole to the king's apartment, and shouting at the door, "Wilkes and No. 45 for ever!" ran away.
A great drinker being at table, they offered him grapes at dessert. "Thank you!" said he, pushing back the plate, "I don't take my wine in pills!"
It's a great comfort for timid men, that beauty, like the elephant, doesn't know its strength. Otherwise, how it would trample upon us!—D.J.
At Glasgow forty years ago, when the time had come for the bowl to be introduced, some jovial and thirsty member of the company proposed as a toast, "The trade of Glasgow and the outward bound;" the hint was taken, and silks and satins moved off to the drawing-room.
While the "Beggar's Opera" was under rehearsal at the Haymarket Theatre, in 1823, Miss Paton, who was to play the part of Polly, expressed a wish to sing the air of "The Miser thus a Shilling sees," a note higher; to which the stage-manager immediately replied, "Then, Miss, you must sing, 'The Miser thus a Guinea sees.'"
An actor, on his benefit night, having a very limited audience, when he came to the often-quoted passage, "'Tis not in mortals to command success, We'll do more, Sempronius—we'll deserve it," heaved a deep sigh, and substituted for the last line, "We'll do more, Sempronius,—we'll do without it."
Delpini had repeatedly applied to the Prince of Wales to speak to the Lord Chamberlain to grant him a license for a play at the Little Theatre in the Haymarket, always pleading poverty: at last, when he once met his Royal Highness coming out of Carlton House, he exclaimed, "Ah, votre Altesse! mon Prince! If you do not speak to Milor Chamberlain for pauvre Delpini, I must go to your papa's bench."
A little girl playing at the game of "I love my love with an A," &c., having arrived at the letter Z, displayed her orthographical acquirements by taking her lover to the sign of the Zebra, and treating him to Zeidlitz powders.
Very pure folks won't be held up to the light and shown to be very dirty bottles, without paying back hard abuse for the impertinence.
We have to congratulate the Right Honorable Lord Brougham on the following piece of intelligence: "Yarn has risen one farthing a pound." His lordship's long speeches are of course at a premium.—G. a'B.
Westmacott, of the Age paper, having libelled a gentleman, was well thrashed for his pains. Declaring afterwards that he would have justice done him, a person present remarked, "That has been done already." A similar story is told of Voltaire and the Regent of France.
The most celebrated wits and bon vivants of the day graced the dinner-table of the late Dr. Kitchener, and, inter alia, the late George Colman, who was an especial favorite; his interpolation of a little monosyllable in a written admonition which the Doctor caused to be placed on the mantlepiece of the dining parlor will never be forgotten, and was the origin of such a drinking bout as was seldom permitted under his roof. The caution ran thus: "Come at seven, go at eleven." Colman briefly altered the sense of it; for, upon the Doctor's attention being directed to the card, he read, to his astonishment, "Come at seven, go it at eleven!" which the guests did, and the claret was punished accordingly.
Jerrold said to a very thin man, "Sir, you are like a pin, but without the head or the point."
When Foote was at Salt Hill, he dined at the Castle Inn, and when Partridge, the host, produced his bill, which was rather exorbitant, the comedian asked him his name. "Partridge, sir," said he. "Partridge! It should have been Woodcock, by the length of your bill!"
When a noble Admiral of the White, well known for his gallant spirit, his gentlemanly manners, and real goodness of heart, was introduced to William the Fourth, to return thanks for his promotion, the cheerful and affable monarch, looking at his hair, which was almost as white as the newly-fallen snow, jocosely exclaimed, "White at the main, Admiral! white at the main!"
Two silly brothers, twins, who were very much about town in Theodore Hook's time, took pains, by dressing alike, to deceive their friends as to their identity. Tom Hill (the original of Paul Pry) was expatiating upon these modern Dromios, at which Hook grew impatient. "Well," said Hill, "you will admit they resemble each other wonderfully: they are as like as two peas."—"They are," retorted Hook, "and quite as green."
This celebrated actor was, perhaps, in no part so excellent as that of Romeo, for which he was particularly fitted by an uncommonly handsome and commanding person, and a silver-toned voice. At the time that he attracted the town to Covent Garden by his excellent performance of his part, Garrick found it absolutely necessary to divide the attention of the public by performing Romeo himself at Drury Lane. He wanted the natural advantages of Barry, and, great as he was, would, perhaps, have willingly avoided such a contention. This, at least, seems to have been a prevailing opinion; for in the garden scene, when Juliet in soliloquy exclaims, "O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" an auditor archly replied, aloud, "Because Barry has gone to the other house."
Mr. Hare, formerly the envoy to Poland, had apartments in the same house with Mr. Fox, and like his friend Charles, had frequent visits from bailiffs. One morning, as he was looking out of his window, he observed two of them at the door. "Pray, gentlemen," says he, "are you Fox hunting, or Hare hunting this morning?"
The amiable Mrs. W—— always insists that her friends who take grog shall mix equal quantities of spirits and water, though she never observes the rule for herself. A writer of plays having once made a glass under her directions, was asked by the lady, "Pray, sir, is it As you like it?"—"No, madam," replied the dramatist; "it is Measure for Measure."
Jonathan and his friend Paddy were enjoying a delightful ride, when they came in sight of what is very unusual in any civilized state now-a-days—an old gallows or gibbet. This suggested to the American the idea of being witty at the expense of his Irish companion. "You see that, I calculate," said he nasally, pointing to the object just mentioned; "and now where would you be if the gallows had its due?"—"Riding alone," coolly replied Paddy.
Several publicans being assembled at Malton, in Yorkshire, in order to renew their licenses to retail beer, the worthy magistrate addressed one of them (an old woman), and said he trusted she did not put any pernicious ingredients into the liquor; to which she immediately replied: "I'll assure your worship there's naught pernicious put into our barrels that I know of, but the exciseman's stick."
A sexton in Salisbury Cathedral was telling Charles Lamb that eight people had dined at the pointed top of the spire; upon which Lamb remarked that they must have been very sharp set.
Dr. Barton, being in company with Dr. Nash, who had just printed two heavy folios on the antiquities of Worcestershire, remarked that the publication was deficient in several respects, adding, "Pray, doctor, are you not a justice of the peace?"—"I am," replied Nash. "Then," said Barton, "I advise you to send your work to the house of correction."
A well-known lawyer, Mr. Marryatt, who declared he had never opened any book after he left school but a law book, once told a jury, when speaking of a chimney on fire: "Gentlemen, the chimney took fire; it poured forth volumes of smoke! Volumes, did I say? Whole encyclopædias!" Mr. Marryatt is said to have applied for two mandami.
Douglas Jerrold, discussing one day with Mr. Selby, the vexed question of adapting dramatic pieces from the French, that gentleman insisted upon claiming some of his characters as strictly original creations. "Do you remember my Baroness in Ask no Questions?" said Mr. S. "Yes, indeed. I don't think I ever saw a piece of yours without being struck by your barrenness," was the retort.
Hymen comes when he is called, and Love when he pleases.
A former laird of Brotherton was on all occasions a man of few words. He had a favorite tame goose, and for hours together Brotherton and his silent companion sat by the fireside opposite to each other. On one occasion a candidate for the representation of the county in Parliament called upon him to solicit his vote, and urged his request with much eloquence; to all which the laird replied only by nods and smiles, without saying a word. When, however, the candidate was gone, he looked across to his goose, and emphatically remarked, "I'm thinkin' yon windy chiel'll no tell muckle that you and I said till him."
Mr. John Clerk, in pleading before the House of Lords one day, happened to say, in his broadest Scotch accent, "In plain English, ma Lords;" upon which Lord Eldon jocosely remarked, "In plain Scotch, you mean, Mr. Clerk." The prompt advocate instantly rejoined, "Na matter! in plain common sense, ma Lords, and that's the same in a' languages, ye'll ken."
A farmer, in a stage-coach with Charles Lamb, kept boring him to death with questions in the jargon of agriculturists about crops. At length he put a poser—"And pray, sir, how are turnips t'year?"—"Why that, sir," stammered out Lamb, "will depend upon the boiled legs of mutton."
Peterson the comedian lent a brother actor two shillings, and when he made a demand for the sum, the debtor, turning peevishly from him, said, "Hang it! I'll pay you to-day in some shape or other." Peterson good-humoredly replied, "I shall be much obliged to you, Tom, to let it be as like two shillings as you can."
Colonel B—— was remarkably fat, and coming one night out of the playhouse, called a chair; but while he was preparing to squeeze into it, a friend, who was stepping into his chariot, called out to him, "B——, I go by your door, and will set you down." B—— gave the chairman a shilling, and was going; when one of them scratched his head, and hoped his honor would give him more than a shilling. "For what, you scoundrel? when I never got into your chair?"—"But consider the fright your honor put us into," replied Pat,—"consider the fright!"
This celebrated Quaker, on visiting a lady of rank, whom he found six months after the death of her husband, sitting on a sofa covered with black cloth, and in all the dignity of woe, approached her with great solemnity, and gently taking her by the hand, thus accosted her: "So friend, I see that thou hast not yet forgiven God Almighty." This seasonable reproof had such an effect upon the person to whom it was addressed, that she immediately laid aside her trappings of grief, and went about her necessary business and avocations.
A young fellow once offered to kiss a Quakeress. "Friend," said she, "thee must not do it."—"O, by Jove! but I must," said the youth. "Well, friend, as thee hast sworn, thee may do it, but thee must not make a practice of it."
When Abernethy was canvassing for the office of surgeon to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, he called upon a rich grocer. The great man, addressing him, said, "I suppose, sir, you want my vote and interest at this momentous epoch of your life."—"No, I don't," said Abernethy. "I want a pennyworth of figs; come, look sharp and wrap them up; I want to be off!"
Sir Charles Lyell, when in the United States, received the following advice from a friend: "When you are racing with an opposition steam-boat, or chasing her, and the other passengers are cheering the captain, who is sitting on the safety-valve to keep it down with his weight, go as far as you can from the engine, and lose no time, especially if you hear the captain exclaim, 'Fire up, boys! put on the resin!' Should a servant call out, 'Those gentlemen who have not paid their passage will please to go to the ladies' cabin,' obey the summons without a moment's delay, for then an explosion may be apprehended. 'Why to the ladies' cabin?' said I. Because it is the safe end of the boat, and they are getting anxious for the personal security of those who have not yet paid their dollars, being, of course, indifferent about the rest. Therefore never pay in advance; for should you fall overboard during a race, and the watch cries out to the captain, 'A passenger overboard,' he will ask, 'Has he paid his passage?' and if he receives an answer in the affirmative, he will call out 'Go ahead!'"
Sir James Mackintosh invited Dr. Parr to take a drive in his gig. The horse became restive. "Gently, Jemmy," says the doctor, "don't irritate him; always soothe your horse, Jemmy. You'll do better without me. Let me down, Jemmy." Once on terra-firma, the doctor's view of the case was changed. "Now, Jemmy, touch him up. Never let a horse get the better of you. Touch him up, conquer him, don't spare him; and now, I'll leave you to manage him—I'll walk back."
Longfellow, the poet, was introduced to one Longworth, and some one noticed the similarity of the first syllable of the names. "Yes," said the poet, "but in this case I fear Pope's line will apply,—'Worth makes the man, the want of it the fellow.'"
A saddle being missing at a funeral, it was observed, no wonder that nothing was heard of it, for it is believed to have been stolen by a mute.
A young man (placed by his friends as a student at a veterinary college) being in company with some of his colleagues, was asked, "If a broken-winded horse were brought to him for cure, what he would advise?" After considering for a moment, "Advise," said he, "I should advise the owner to sell as soon as possible."
Soon after Canning's statue was put up in Palace Yard, in all its verdant freshness, the carbonate of copper not yet blackened by the smoke of London, Mr. Justice Gazelee was walking away from Westminster Hall with a friend, when the judge, looking at the statue (which is colossal), said, "I don't think this is very like Canning; he was not so large a man."—"No, my lord," replied his companion, "nor so green."
During the assizes, in a case of assault and battery, where a stone had been thrown by the defendant, the following clear and conclusive evidence was drawn out of a Yorkshireman:—
"Did you see the defendant throw the stone?"—"I saw a stone, and I'ze pretty sure the defendant throwed it."
"Was it a large stone?"—"I should say it wur a largish stone."
"What was its size?"—"I should say a sizeable stone."
"Can't you answer definitely how big it was?"—"I should say it wur a stone of some bigness."
"Can't you give the jury some idea of the stone?"—"Why, as near as I recollect, it wur something of a stone."
"Can't you compare it to some other object?"—"Why, if I wur to compare it, so as to give some notion of the stone, I should say it wur as large as a lump o' chalk!"
A certain reverend gentleman in the country was complaining to another that it was a great fatigue to preach twice a day. "Oh!" said the other, "I preach twice every Sunday, and make nothing of it."
Stephen Kemble (who was very fat) and Mrs. Esten, were crossing the Frith, when a gale sprang up, which alarmed the passengers. "Suppose, Mr. Kemble," said Mrs. Esten; "suppose we become food for fishes, which of us two do you think they will eat first?"—"Those that are gluttons," replied the comedian, "will undoubtedly fall foul of me, but the epicures will attack you!"
It was told of Jekyll, that one of his friends, a brewer, had been drowned in his own vat. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "floating in his own watery bier."
In one of Sir Robert Walpole's letters, he gives a very instructive picture of a skilful minister and a condescending Parliament. "My dear friend," writes Sir Robert, "there is scarcely a member whose purse I do not know to a sixpence, and whose very soul almost I could not purchase at the offer. The reason former ministers have been deceived in this matter is evident—they never considered the temper of the people they had to deal with. I have known a minister so weak as to offer an avaricious old rascal a star and garter, and attempt to bribe a young rogue, who set no value upon money, with a lucrative employment. I pursue methods as opposite as the poles, and therefore my administration has been attended with a different effect."
"Patriots," says Walpole, "spring up like mushrooms. I could raise fifty of them within four-and-twenty hours. I have raised many of them in one night. It is but refusing to gratify an unreasonable or insolent demand, and up starts a patriot."
When Boswell's "Life of Johnson," first made its appearance, Boswell was so full of it that he could neither think nor talk of anything else: so much so, that meeting Lord Thurlow hurrying through Parliament Street to get to the House of Lords, where an important debate was expected, and for which he was already too late, Boswell had the temerity to stop and accost him with "Have you read my book?"—"Yes, —— you!" replied Lord Thurlow, "every word of it; I could not help myself."
A drunken fellow coming by a shop, asked an apprentice boy what the sign was. He answered, that it was a sign he was drunk.
A young man who, on a public occasion, makes a false quantity at the outset of life, can seldom or never get over it.
A lady was asked by her friends if she really intended to marry Mr. ——, who was a good kind of a man, but so very singular. "Well," replied the lady, "if he is very much unlike other men, he is more likely to make a good husband."
The folly of betting is well satirized in one of Walpole's Letters: "Sept. 1st, 1750,—They have put in the papers a good story made at White's. A man dropped down dead at the door, and was carried in; the club immediately made bets whether he was dead or not, and when they were going to bleed him the wagerers for his death interposed, and said it would affect the fairness of the bet."
Paddy being asked if he thought of doing something, which, for his own part, he deemed very unlikely, he said he should "as soon think of attempting to light a cigar at a pump."
These lines will be read with a deep interest, as being literally the last ever written by their highly-gifted and deeply-lamented author,—James Smith.
Coleridge once dined in company with a grave-looking person, an admirable listener, who said nothing, but smiled and nodded, and thus impressed the poet with an idea of his intelligence. "That man is a philosopher," thought Coleridge. At length, towards the end of the dinner, some apple-dumplings were placed on the table, and the listener no sooner saw them than, almost jumping from his chair, he exclaimed, "Them's the jockeys for me!"
A highwayman and a chimney-sweeper were condemned to be hanged the same time at Tyburn,—the first for an exploit on the highway, the latter for a more ignoble robbery. "Keep farther off, can't you?" said the highwayman, with some disdain. "Sir," replied the sweep, "I won't keep off; I have as much right to be here as you!"
An Irish counsel being asked by the judge for whom was he concerned, replied, "I am concerned for the plaintiff, but I'm retained by the defendant."
When the late Mr. Whitbread's father, the brewer, first opposed the Duke of Bedford's interest at Bedford, the Duke informed him that he would spend £50,000 rather than he should come in. Whitbread, with true English spirit, replied, that was nothing; the sale of his grains would pay for that.
A Jew called on to justify bail in the Court of Common Pleas, the opposing counsel thus examined him: "What is your name?"—"Jacob."—"What are you?"—"General dealer."—"Do you keep a shop?"—"No."—"How then do you dispose of your goods?"—"To the best advantage, my good fellow."
Dr. Young was walking in his garden at Welwyn, in company with two ladies (one of whom he afterwards married), when the servant came to acquaint him a gentleman wished to speak with him. As he refused to go, one lady took him by the right arm, the other by the left, and led him to the garden-gate; when, finding resistance in vain, he bowed, laid his hand upon his heart, and spoke the following lines:—
Mr. Dickens tells an American story of a young lady, who, being intensely loved by five young men, was advised to "jump overboard, and marry the man who jumped in after her." Accordingly, next morning, the five lovers being on deck, and looking very devotedly at the young lady, she plunged into the sea head-foremost. Four of the lovers immediately jumped in after her. When the young lady and four lovers were out again, she says to the captain, "What am I to do with them now, they are so wet?"—"Take the dry one." And the young lady did, and married him.
The old Scottish hearers were very particular on the subject of their ministers' preaching old sermons; and to repeat a discourse which they could recollect was always made a subject of animadversion by those who heard it. A beadle who was a good deal of a wit in his way, gave a sly hit in his pretended defence of his minister on the question. As they were proceeding from church, the minister observed the beadle had been laughing as if he had triumphed over some of his parishioners with whom he had been in conversation. On asking the cause of this, he received for answer, "Indeed, sir, they were saying ye had preached an auld sermon to-day, but I tackled them, for I tauld them it was no'an auld sermon, for the minister had preached it no' sax months syne."
Love the sea? I dote upon it,—from the beach.—D.J.
A pompous parish clergyman felt his dignity mightily offended by a chubby-faced lad who was passing him without moving his hat. "Do you know who I am, sir, that you pass me in that unmannerly way? You are better fed than taught, I think, sir."—"Whew, may be it is so, measter, for you teaches me, but I feeds myself."
An American braggart told Cooke that his family was amongst the oldest in Maryland. Cooke inquired if he had carefully examined the family plate,—the fetters and handcuffs!
A poor youth, brought up in one of the colleges, could not afford the price of a pair of shoes, but when his old ones were worn out at the toes, had them capped with leather: whereupon his companions began to jeer him for so doing: "Why," said he, "don't you see they must be capped? Are they not fellows?"
An unfortunate man, who had never drank water enough to warrant the disease, was reduced to such a state by dropsy, that a consultation of physicians was held upon his case. They agreed that tapping was necessary, and the poor patient was invited to submit to the operation, which he seemed inclined to do in spite of the entreaties of his son. "O, father, father, do not let them tap you," screamed the boy, in an agony of tears; "do anything, but do not let them tap you!"—"Why, my dear?" inquired the afflicted parent, "it will do me good, and I shall live long in health to make you happy."—"No, father, no, you will not: there never was anything tapped in our house that lasted longer than a week."
A very prosy gentleman, who was in the habit of waylaying Jerrold, met his victim, and, planting himself in the way, said, "Well, Jerrold, what is going on to-day?"
Jerrold said, darting past the inquirer, "I am!"
A certain deacon being accustomed to snore while asleep in church, he received the following polite note: "Deacon —— is requested not to commence snoring to-morrow until the sermon is begun, as some persons in the neighborhood of his pew would like to hear the text."
Soon after the attack of Margaret Nicholson on the life of George III., the following bill was stuck up in the window of an obscure alehouse: "Here is to be seen the fork belonging to the knife with which Margaret Nicholson attempted to stab the King."
Two women scolding each other, one said, "Thou liest like a thief and a witch." The other replies, "But thou liest like an almanac-maker; for thou liest every day and all the year long."
A gentleman at Limehouse observed the laborers at work in a tier of colliers, and wanting to learn the price of coals, hailed one of the men with, "Well, Paddy, how are coals?"—"Black as ever," was the reply.
A man was boasting before a companion of his very strong sight. "I can discern from here a mouse on the top of that very high tower."—"I don't see it," answered, his comrade; "but I hear it running."
A swell clerk from London, who was spending an evening in a country inn full of company, and feeling secure in the possession of most money, made the following offer. "I will drop money into a hat with any man in the room. The man who holds out the longest to have the whole and treat the company."—"I'll do it," said a farmer. The swell dropped in half a sovereign. The countryman followed with a sixpence. "Go on," said the swell. "I won't," said the farmer; "take the whole, and treat the company."
On the trial of a cause in the Court of Common Pleas, Mr. Serjeant Vaughan having asked a witness a question rather of law than of fact, Lord Chief Justice Eldon observed, "Brother Vaughan, this is not quite fair; you wish the witness to give you, for nothing, what you would not give him under two guineas."
At a shop-window in the Strand there appeared the following notice: "Wanted, two apprentices, who will be treated as one of the family."
When an inferior actor at the Haymarket once took off David Garrick, Foote limped from the boxes to the green-room, and severely rated him for his impudence. "Why, sir," said the fellow, "you take him off every day, and why may not I?"—"Because," replied the satirist, "you are not qualified to kill game, and I am."
When Wilkes was in France, and at Court, Madame Pompador addressed him thus: "You Englishmen are fine fellows; pray how far may a man go in his abuse of the Royal family among you?"—"I do not at present know," replied he, dryly, "but I am trying."
Lord J. Russell endeavored to persuade Lord Langdale to resign the permanent Mastership of the Rolls for the uncertain position of Lord Chancellor, and paid the learned lord very high compliments on his talent and acquirements. "It is useless talking, my lord," said Langdale. "So long as I enjoy the Rolls, I care nothing for your butter."
His Lordship was accustomed to sleep during the Parliamentary harangues of his adversaries, leaving Sir Grey Cooper to note down anything remarkable. During a debate on ship-building, some tedious speaker entered on an historical detail, in which, commencing with Noah's Ark, he traced the progress of the art regularly down-wards. When he came to build the Spanish Armada, Sir Grey inadvertently awoke the slumbering premier, who inquired at what era the honorable gentleman had arrived. Being answered, "We are now in the reign of Queen Elizabeth," "Dear Sir Grey," said he, "why not let me sleep a century or two more?"
"You had better ask for manners than money," said a finely-dressed gentleman to a beggar who asked for alms.
"I asked for what I thought you had the most of," was the cutting reply.
A loquacious lady, ill of a complaint of forty years' standing, applied to Mr. Abernethy for advice, and had begun to describe its progress from the first, when Mr. A. interrupted her, saying he wanted to go into the next street, to see a patient; he begged the lady to inform him how long it would take her to tell her story. The answer was, twenty minutes. He asked her to proceed, and hoped she would endeavor to finish by the time he returned.
(A part is not equal to the whole.—Axiom.)