English Jests and Anecdotes. VariousЧитать онлайн книгу.
won, how are you going to make the mule pay you?” “Oh, sir,” says the negro, “me make him pay me very well; massa give me one tenpenny for buy him grass, and me only buy him a fippeny worth!”
When Dr. Franklin applied to the King of Prussia to lend his assistance to America, “Pray, doctor,” says the veteran, “what is the object you mean to attain?” – “Liberty, sire,” replied the philosopher of Philadelphia; “liberty! that freedom which is the birthright of man.” The king, after a short pause, made this memorable and kingly answer: “I was born a prince; I am become a king; and I will not use the power which I possess to the ruin of my own trade.”
Sheridan never gave Lewis any of the profits of the Castle Spectre. One day, Lewis, being in company with him, said, “Sheridan, I will make you a large bet.” Sheridan, who was always ready to make a wager (however he might find it inconvenient to pay it if lost), asked eagerly, “What bet?” “All the profits of my Castle Spectre,” replied Lewis. “I will tell you what,” said Sheridan (who never found his match at repartee), “I will make you a very small one – what it is worth.”
Some people have an objection to thirteen at dinner. Dr. Kitchiner, the culinary, happened to be one of a company of that number at Dr. Henderson’s, and, on its being remarked, and pronounced unlucky, he said, “I admit that it is unlucky in one case.” “What case is that?” “When there is only dinner for twelve.”
At a dinner party, one day, somebody talked of a rich rector in Worcestershire, whose name he could not recollect, but who had not preached for the last twelve months, as he every Sunday requested one of the neighbouring clergy to officiate for him. “Oh!” replied a gentleman present, “though you cannot recollect his name, I can – it is England – England expects every man to do his duty.”
A coach proprietor complained to Sir William Curtis that he suspected his guard of robbing him, and asked what he should do? “Prenez-garde,” said Sir William.
Lady S – r was complaining one morning at breakfast that the tea was very bad, and said she was quite sure the water didn’t boil; “Nay,” said she, “the urn didn’t even hiss when it was brought in.” “No,” said Sir W. E., “it was tacit-urn.”
A gentleman who was relating an accident he had met with from a fall, was asked by a surgeon, if it was near the vertebræ that he had been hurt? “No, sir,” was the reply, “it was near the Observatory.”
A barber having come up to poll at a Berwick election, one of the candidates, with evident marks of disappointment, asked, “What! did you not shave me this morning?” “Yes,” answered the barber, “but I have shaved Mr. – (meaning the opposing candidate) since.”
Doctor Thomson was called in to attend a gentleman, who persuaded himself that he was, to use a popular expression, “dying by inches.” The doctor caught the invalid at dinner, and having seen him demolish some soup, a slice of salmon, two cuts of chine of mutton, and half a partridge, inquired what other symptoms of disease he felt. “None particularly, sir,” said the invalid, “only every thing about me tends to convince me that I am consumptive.” “Your appetite is, at all events, sir,” said the doctor, and walked off.
The fireworks for the peace of Ryswick were made by a colonel in the army, and were much admired. This gentleman one day commending Purcel’s epitaph, “He is gone to that place, where only his harmony can be exceeded.” – “Why,” said a lady present, “that epitaph will serve for you, with a very small alteration: there is nothing to do, but to change the word harmony for fireworks.”
In the great catalogue of the British Museum Library many of the books are classed according to the subjects of which they treat. Against the head “Rebellion” there appears this notice (only) – “Vide Hibernia.”
An Indian of the Abipones, an equestrian people of South America, was about to be baptized. “You will certainly go to heaven after this ceremony, when you die,” said the Jesuit who was to christen him. The Indian was content. Just as the water was on the point of being thrown, however, a doubt arose in the mind of the savage. “By this water I shall go to heaven?” said he. “As sure as there are mosquitoes in America,” answered the father. “But my friends, who will not be baptised.” – “They must go to hell: assuredly, they shall not miss; not a man of them.” “Then excuse me,” said the savage; “I am sorry to have given you this trouble; but I shall choose to go too.”
Sir Baptist Hickes was telling how his gold buttons were cut off in a crowd, and he never the wiser, though the poorer. Sir Edmund Bacon asked him, if they were not strung upon lutestring? “No,” answered he. “Oh, fie,!” said Sir Edmund, “that was the cause it was not discovered; for if they had been strung upon lutestring, as soon as it was cut it would have cried twang.”
When the public bodies at London paid their court to the Prince of Orange on his arrival in the ever-memorable 1688, Sergeant Maynard, a man near ninety years of age, headed the deputation of lawyers. William, remarking his great age, expressed a supposition that he must have outlived all the men of law of his time. “Why,” said Maynard, with wit admirably suited to the crisis, “I was like to have outlived the law itself, if your Royal Highness had not come over.”2
A staunch Whig of the old school, disputing with a Jacobite, said he had two reasons for being against the interest of the Pretender. “What are those?” inquired the Tory. “The first is, that he is an impostor, and not really King James’s son.” “Why, that,” said the Jacobite, “is a good reason, if it could be proved; but, pray, what is the other?” “That he is King James’s son.”
An ignorant preacher, the vicar of Trumpington, near Ely, having occasion to read that passage in Scripture, – “Eloi, Eloi, Lama sabbacthani,” and considering with himself that it might be ridiculous and absurd in him to read it as it stood, since he was vicar of Trumpington, and not of Ely, actually bawled out, “Trumpington, Trumpington, Lama sabbacthani.”
A young but ambitious M.P. of the last age, having long resolved upon attempting some speech which should astonish the House, at last rose solemnly up, and, after three loud hems, spoke as follows: – “Mr. Speaker, have we laws, or have we not laws? If we have laws, they are not observed, to what end were those laws made?” So saying, he sat down, his chest heaving high with conscious consequence; when another rose up, and delivered his thoughts in these words: – “Mr. Speaker, did the honourable gentleman who spoke last, speak to the purpose, or not to the purpose? If he did not speak to the purpose, to what purpose did he speak?” It is needless to describe the roar of laughter with which the House was instantly shaken, or to say that the orator never spoke again in that place.
Some years ago, a gentleman at Windsor took the place of the organist, with a view to shew his superiority in execution. Among other pieces, he was playing one of Dr. Blow’s anthems; but, just as he had finished the verse part, and begun the full chorus, the organ ceased. On this, he called to Dick, the bellows-blower, to know what was the matter. “The matter?” says Dick; “I have played the anthem below.” “Ay,” says the other, “but I have not played it above.” “No matter,” quoth Dick, “you might have made more haste, then; I know how many puffs go to one of Dr. Blow’s anthems, as well as you do: I have not played the organ so many years for nothing.”
Dr. Butler was a man of peculiar manners. Being sent for to a lady’s house, the lady desired a servant to ask what he would have for supper. “A roasted horse,”
Burnett’s