Part 4

A few days previous to Foote’s opening the Haymarket Theatre, amongst a variety of applications for engagements, a lady came to him warmly recommended. Some time after she was introduced ensued the following scene:--“Pray, madam,” says Foote, “are you for tragedy or comedy?” No answer. “Are you married, madam? for if you are, by God, your husband is very happy in regard to your tongue.” By this time, the lady perceived she was spoken to; when, drawing her chair close up to the wit’s, and turning one of her ears to him at the same time, she replied,--“Speak a little louder, sir, for _I am deaf_.”

PRIME MINISTERS.

A person, speaking of the remarkably short lives of prime ministers, said, “that almost as soon as they’re _primed_ they _go off_.”

QUEEN ANNE’S BATCH OF NEW PEERS.

The peace of Utrecht sticking in the House of Lords, Queen Anne, or rather her prime minister, the Earl of Oxford, found it politically necessary to create a majority, by calling up twelve commoners to the House of Peers. The celebrated Duke of Wharton, who was in the opposition, took care to be in the House the day of their introduction, and, as they passed by him, very deliberately counted out aloud, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve: well, gentlemen of the jury, who shall speak for you?”

The same nobleman, soon after, meeting the Earl of Oxford, addressed him with,--“So, Robin, I find what you lost by tricks, you have gained by honours.”

SCARCITY OF FIRING.

Foote once went to spend his Christmas with C---- B----n, Esq., when, the weather being very cold, and there being but bad fires, occasioned by the scarcity of wood in the house, Foote was determined to make his visit as short as possible. Accordingly, on the third day after he went there, he ordered his chaise, and was preparing to set out for town. Mr. B----n, seeing him with his boots on in the morning, asked him what hurry he was in, and pressed him to stay. “No, no,” says Foote, “you would not let me have a leg to stand on.” “Why, sure,” says Mr. B----n, “we do not drink so much.” “No,” says the wit, “but there is so little wood in your house, that, by God, I am afraid one of your servants may light the fires some morning with my right leg.”

QUIN.

Quin one day complaining of his old age and infirmities, in the public rooms at Bath, a pert young coxcomb asked “What would he give to be as young as he was?” “I do not know,” says Quin, measuring him very contemptuously, “but I should be almost content to be as foolish.”

COUNSELLOR C----.

Counsellor C---- being chosen a friendly arbitrator between two near relations, one of whom had a very deservedly bad character, it happened, in the warmth of stating their grievances, the one gave the other the lie. “Lie, sir!” says the man with the bad character; “know that is amongst the actions of my life I _dare_ not do.” “My dear friend,” says the counsellor, “do not be in a passion: upon my soul, you have too mean an opinion of your own courage.”

VERY LITTLE OF ITS AGE.

Foote being at a nobleman’s house, his lordship, as soon as dinner was over, ordered a bottle of Cape to be set on the table, which, after magnifying its good qualities, and in particular, its _age_, he sent round the table in glasses that scarcely held a thimble-full. “Fine wine, upon my soul,” says the wit, tasting, and smacking his lips. “Is it not very curious?” says his lordship. “Perfectly so, indeed,” says the other; “I do not remember to have seen anything so little of its age in my life before.”

AT WHAT GAME?

Foote, meeting at Bath, his old acquaintance, Major B---- (a character well known in the annals of gaming), came up to him, and asked him, with great cordiality, how he was? “Ah, Foote,” says the other, “I have had a terrible accident since I saw you last; no less than the _loss_ of an eye.” “My dear fellow,” says the wit, “I am heartily sorry for it: pray, at what game?”

DIRTY HANDS.

A well beneficed old parson being at a public dinner, he entertained them with nothing else but the situation and profits of his parochial livings, which last, he said, he kept entirely to himself. The company in general despised him too much to make any remarks on his egotisms; but Quin being of the party, and observing the parson, as he stretched across the table, to shew a pair of very dirty yellow hands, he immediately called out,--“So, so, doctor, I think you do keep your glebe in your own hands.”

MESS-ROOM GOSSIP.

The late Duke of York once remarked to Colonel W. at the mess of the 11th regiment, that the colonel was uncommonly bald, and, although a younger man than his royal highness, he stood in more need of a wig. The colonel, who had been of very long standing in the service, and whose promotion had been by no means rapid, informed his royal highness that his baldness could be very easily accounted for. “In what manner?” asked his royal highness, rather eagerly. To which Colonel W. replied, “By junior officers stepping over my head.” The duke was so pleased with the reply, that the gallant colonel obtained promotion in a few days afterwards.

BEAU BRUMMELL.

When Brummell was the great oracle on coats, the Duke of Leinster was very anxious to bespeak the approbation of the “Emperor of the Dandies,” for a “cut” which he had just patronised. The duke, in the course of his eulogy on his Schneider, had frequently occasion to use the words “my coat.” “Your coat, my dear fellow!” said Brummell, “what coat?” “Why, this coat,” said Leinster; “this coat that I have on.” Brummell, after regarding the vestment with an air of infinite scorn, walked up to the duke, and, taking the collar between his finger and thumb, as if fearful of contamination, said, “What! duke, do you call that thing a coat?”

COUNSELLOR C----.

Counsellor C---- being very infirm and goutified from his excesses, meeting one day with an old friend of his, a permit officer of the custom-house, the latter asked how he did? “Ah?” says the counsellor, “you will not have me long amongst you.” “Come, come,” says the other, “do not be cast down; you shall not have a permit to die yet a while.” “Shall not I, indeed?” says the counsellor; “why, then, I would have you keep a sharp look-out for death; for, if you don’t, I am afraid he will smuggle me.”

PURITANISM AT BOWLS.

The Puritans carried their peculiar tenets into the minutest affairs of life. When Lord Brook, one of the number played at bowls, he would sometimes run after his cast, and cry, “Rub, rub, rub,” in the eager, but absurd hope that such a cry would give effect to his play. On such occasions, his chaplain would run after him with equal eagerness, and earnestly exclaim, “Oh, good my lord, you must leave that to God.”

FIAT LUX.

A bishop of Lincoln adopted the strange conceit of having the grand Scripture sentence, “FIAT LUX,” painted on all the windows of his house. In his hall, in particular, it was so thickly painted, that the reverse of the command was observable, and, as a wag remarked, you could scarcely see for light. A mad scholar, at last, happened to wait upon the bishop, and, observing the opacity of the light, fell a-breaking the windows with his stick. Being carried by the servants into the presence of the bishop, and questioned as to the cause of his conduct, “Why, my lord,” answered he, “I was only obeying your lordship’s commands: _Fiat Lux_.”

WIT IN CHOOSING TEXTS.

A young preacher, in the time of James I., being appointed to hold forth before the vice-chancellor and heads of the colleges of Oxford, chose for his text, “What! cannot you watch one hour?” which carried a personal allusion, as the vice-chancellor happened to be one of those heavy-headed persons who cannot attend church without falling asleep. The preacher repeating his text in an emphatic manner, at the end of every division of his discourse, the unfortunate vice-chancellor as often awoke; and this happened so often, that, at last, all present could very well see the joke. The vice-chancellor was so nettled at the disturbance he had met with, and the talk it occasioned, that he complained to the Archbishop of Canterbury, who immediately sent for the young man, to reprove him for what he had done. In the course of the conference which ensued between the archbishop and the preacher, the latter gave so many proofs of his wit and good sense, that his grace procured him the honour of preaching before the king. Here also he had his joke: he gave out his text in these words,--“James First and Sixth, _Waver not_;” which, of course, everybody present saw to be a stroke at the indecisive character of the monarch. James, equally quick-sighted, exclaimed, “He is at me already;” but he was upon the whole so well pleased with this clerical wag, as to make him one of his chaplains in ordinary. He afterwards went to Oxford, and preached a farewell sermon on the text, “Sleep on now, and take your rest.”

BALLOTING.

It sometimes happens that a candidate for admission into a society, or club, finds every individual member to whom he speaks during the canvass agreeable to his wishes; but when the day of ballot arrives, discovers that there is a majority of black balls. We would recommend to the attention of all such unhappy individuals, the practical joke which a curate once played off under similar circumstances. Being a candidate for some vacant benefice, which was at the disposal of the clergy of the district, he sounded them all beforehand as to their disposition to serve him, and found each more disposed to favour and support him than another. When they met, however, to deliberate on the subject in full synod, he found himself by no means so well treated. Afraid that he should lose his election, he invited the whole to a feast. They, knowing that he should be unable to provide for them from his own resources, sent, as was customary, each a certain portion of the materials of the entertainment--one fish, another flesh, a third wine, a fourth oil, and so forth. The whole he boiled together in one kettle. Of course, when the guests were all arranged, and the food brought in, it was found to be the most unpalatable stuff in the world. They asked what sort of food this was, and he answered with oblique veracity, that it was what they had sent to him. “Ah,” said they, “but what, if cooked each thing by itself, and presented in a separate dish, would have been very good, it is quite disgusting in this hotch-potch style.” “Just so are ye to me,” replied the host; “you are very fair and kind to me when single, and one by one; but when you are gathered together, you are the most disagreeable people in the whole world.”

CLASSICAL PUN.

As William Spencer was contemplating the caricatures at Fores’s, somebody pointed out to him the marine piece, entitled “_The Ostend packet in a Squall_,” when the wit, without at all sympathizing in the nausea visible on some of the faces represented in the print, exclaimed, “Quodcunque Ostendis _mihi_ sic incredulus odi.”

LUDICROUS MISTAKE.

When Mrs. Mary Robinson published her Sappho and Phaon, she wrote to Mr. Boaden, then editor of a newspaper, in the following terms:--“Mrs. Robertson would thank her friend Boaden for a dozen puffs for Sappho and Phaon.” By mistake of the twopenny post, this note was delivered to Mr. Bowden, the pastry-cook, in the Strand, who sent this answer:--“Mr. Bowden’s respectful compliments to Mrs. Robertson; shall be very happy to serve her; but, as Mrs. R. is not a constant customer, he cannot send the puffs for the young folks without first receiving the money.”

PUNNING FLATTERY.

One day, when Sir Isaac Heard was in company with George III., it was announced that his majesty’s horse was ready for hunting. “Sir Isaac,” said the king, “are you a judge of horses?” “In my younger days, please your majesty, I was a great deal among them,” was the reply. “What do you think of this, then?” said the king, who was by this time preparing to mount his favourite; and without waiting for an answer, added, “we call him _Perfection_.” “A most appropriate name,” replied the courtly herald, bowing as his majesty reached the saddle; “for he bears the best of characters.”

IF YOU CAN, I CANNOT.

An American gentleman, who was so passionately fond of backgammon, that, even to be a spectator of it much interested him, happened to be surveying a game in which one of the players shewed an evident inferiority to the other. As the game proceeded, he was wrought up to a pitch of perfect fury at the bad play of this individual, who on the other hand, maintained, under all his reverses, a coolness perfectly admirable. “Can you bear that?” cried the American at every hit made by the good player. “Why not?” said the other, with perfect indifference. At last, on the good player gaining an advantage of a particularly brilliant nature, “Can you really bear that?” exclaimed the American. “Why not?” drawled out the loser, with his usual philosophic coolness. “Well,” cried the American, “if you can I cannot;” and seizing the board, he threw the whole, dice, men, and everything, into the fire.

A COMPLICATION OF DISORDERS.

“What did Mr. ---- die of?” asked a simple neighbour. “Of a complication of disorders,” replied his friend. “How do you describe this complication, my good sir?” “He died,” answered the other, “of two physicians, an apothecary, and a surgeon!”

GOOD EXCHANGE.

Garrick having remarked at the Beef-Steak Club, that he had so large a mass of manuscript plays submitted to his perusal, that they were constantly liable to be mislaid, he observed, that, unpleasant as it was to reject an author’s piece, it was an affront to the poor devil’s feelings if it could not instantly be found; and that, for this reason, he made a point of ticketing and labelling the play that was to be returned, that it might be forthcoming at a moment’s notice. “A fig for your hypocrisy!” exclaimed Murphy, across the table: “you know Davy, you mislaid my tragedy two months ago, and I make no doubt you have lost it.” “Yes,” replied Garrick; “but you forget, you ungrateful dog, that I offered you more than its value; for you might have had two manuscript farces in its stead.”

STAKE VERSUS STEAK.

On one occasion, Garrick dined in the beef-steak room at Covent Garden, ready dressed in character for the part of Ranger, which he was to perform the same night at the other theatre. Ranger appears in the opening of the comedy; and as the curtain was not drawn up at the usual time, the audience began to manifest considerable impatience, for Garrick had not yet arrived. A call-boy was instantly despatched for him, but he was unfortunately retarded by a line of carriages that blocked up the whole of Russel Street, which it was necessary for him to cross. This protracted still further the commencement of the piece; and the house evinced considerable dissatisfaction, with cries of “Manager, manager!” When Garrick at length reached the green-room, he found Dr. Ford, one of the patentees, pacing backwards and forwards in great agitation. The moment the doctor saw him, he addressed him in a strong tone of rebuke. “I think, David, considering the stake you and I have in this theatre, you might pay more attention to its business.” “True, my good friend,” returned Garrick, “I should have been in good time; but I was thinking of my _steak_ in the other.” The appearance of their favourite soon pacified the audience, and Garrick went through the character with more vivacity than ever.

HYPERCRITICISM.

When Colman read his admirable opera of _Inkle and Yarico_ to the late Dr. Moseley, the doctor made no remark during the progress of the piece; but, when it was concluded, being asked what he thought of it, “It won’t do,” said the doctor; “stuff, nonsense!” Every body else having been delighted with it, this decided disapprobation puzzled the circle: he was asked why? “I’ll tell you why,” answered the critic; “you say in the finale,

‘Now, let us dance and sing, While all Barbadoes’ bells shall ring.’

It won’t do: there is but one bell in the whole island.”

APPROPRIATE ILLUSTRATIONS.

Some one was asked what works he had in the press? “Why, the History of the Bank, with _notes_; the Art of Cookery, with _plates_; and the Science of Single-Stick, with _wood-cuts_.”

DISTINCTION BETWEEN A LORD AND A GENTLEMAN.

In the reign of King James the First, it is said, that titles were not always well placed; which made an extravagant young fellow very smart upon a courtier, whom he desired to move the King to make him a lord. “What pretensions, either of blood or merit,” replies the courtier, “have you to recommend you to that dignity?” The young man confessed modestly, that “he hoped he stood possessed of all the qualities requisite for a fashionable nobleman; that he loved dogs, dice, and drabs; scorned wit in poor clothes; and had beat his shoemaker, and ruined his tailor.” The matter came to the king’s ear; but the young candidate’s preferment was opposed by a person in waiting, who, it seems, had had no feeling in the affair. The king demanded what reasons there were against the man’s being made a lord; the courtier insisted, that “he was a mean obscure person, and not so much as a gentleman.” “Oh! it is no matter for that,” replies the monarch, merrily, “I can make a lord, though I cannot make a gentleman.”

SIGNS.

A noted wag remarked the absurdity of a tradesman putting his name plump in the middle of the words expressing his trade,--a practice very common in London. “For example,” said he, “how ridiculous it is to see _General_ HENDERSON _Fish-merchant_, in Holborn; or _Dealer in_ MASH _Potatoes_, in the Commercial Road.” “Dear me,” exclaimed a young lady present, “I am very fond of mash-potatoes; I should like to _deal_ with that man.” “If you are so fond of them,” replied her informant, “probably you would like better to _board_ with him.”

A LAWYER CANNOT BE TOO BAREFACED.

A barrister observed to a learned brother in court, that he thought his whiskers were very unprofessional. “You are right,” replied his friend; “a lawyer cannot be too barefaced.”

SHARP ENOUGH ALREADY.

A solicitor, who was remarkable for the length and sharpness of his nose, once told a lady, that if she did not immediately settle a matter in dispute, he would file a bill against her. “Indeed, sir,” said the lady, “there is no necessity for you to _file_ your _bill_, for I am sure it is sharp enough already.”

NEW CONSTRUCTION OF “EQUAM MEMENTO.”

A gentleman told Lord North, that, from a variety of losses, he had found himself compelled to reduce his establishment. “And what,” said his lordship, “have you done with the fine mare you used to ride?” “I have sold her.” “Then you have not attended to Horace’s maxim,--

_Equam_ memento rebus in arduis servare.”

VENETIAN BLINDS.

Three Venetians, whom Lord Byron brought with him into this country, were so dreadfully attacked by ophthalmia, as almost entirely to lose their eye-sight. “What can we do with these poor fellows?” said his lordship, when he heard of their misfortune. “Why,” said Dr. L., “at the worst, we can set each of them up as a _Venetian Blind_.”

TOO MANY DAMS.

A boat ascending the Ohio river was hailed by another boat, when the following dialogue ensued:-- “What boat is that?” “The Cherry_stone_.” “Whence came you?” “From Red_stone_.” “Where are you bound to?” “Lime_stone_.” “Who is your captain?” “Thomas _Stone_.” “What are you loaded with?” “Mill_stones_ and grind_stones_.” “You are a _hard_ set to be sure; take care you don’t go to the bottom. Farewell.”

The above reminds us of another, and, perhaps, more original joke, of which we supply a new edition:--Two ships meeting, the following dialogue ensued:--“What ship is that?” “The _Dam_.” ”Whence came you?“ ”From Amster_dam_.” “Where are you bound to?” “To Rotter_dam_.” “What is your captain’s name?” “Pots_dam_.” “What is your cargo?” “_Dam_sons and _Dam_ask.” “How goes it with you?” “In the last gale much _dam_age.” “What news?” “The _dams_ of Holland overflowed.” “You are,” concluded the interrogating tar, “a _d---d set_; so _d----n_ your eyes, sheer off!”

RIGHT DIVINE.

Among the few highly favoured individuals who were included in the select evening parties of George the Fourth, while at the Pavilion, Brighton, was the facetious Rev. J. Wright. On one occasion, the king hinted to his brother, the Duke of York, some intention he had of doing a particular act, to which the duke dissented: his majesty referred to the D.D.; on which the reverend jocularly observed, “The King can do no wrong.” “Then,” said his majesty, “Fred, I shall pursue my object; for you hear I have _Wright Divine_ on my side.”

AN OLD BEARD.

Eric Rosenkrantz, who visited England in the reign of Charles I., from a motive of curiosity, was, in 1652, sent hither on an extraordinary embassy from the court of Denmark. Cromwell, who considered Rosenkrantz as a young minister without experience, asked him, whether there were many such forward geniuses among the Danes, who were qualified to manage the arduous affairs of state before their beards were grown. Rosenkrantz, who had occasion for all his temper and discretion not to say too much or too little upon the attack, replied, with an admirable firmness, “Sir, my beard, though it be young, is, however, older than your republic.” The protector, from this smart reply, conceived a different opinion of him, and treated him with much higher regard.

LORD LOUGHBOROUGH.

Lord Loughborough rallying a physician one day, on the inefficacy of his prescriptions, the doctor said, he defied any of his patients to find fault with him. “That,” answered the witty lord, “is exactly what Jack Ketch says.”

NATIONAL PARADOXES.

Somebody once remarked that the Englishman is never happy but when he is miserable; the Scotchman is never at home but when he is abroad; and the Irishman is never at peace but when he is fighting.

A HARD RUN.

A droll equivoque, and not unseasonable, took place between Sir ---- and Mr. M----, at the time of the great cash distresses in 1826. The baronet overtook the latter on returning from a fox chase; and, supposing the banker had been one of the field, and wishing to say something civil as he passed, observed, “A hard run to-day, Mr. M.” “Oh, no, sir, I assure you!” replied the conscious man of money, not of straw; “no such thing, sir; not in the least _hard pressed_ to-day; no run at all!” “Why we run him in!” rejoined the baronet, with evident surprise; “would you have all knocked up?” “Oh! you are talking of the fox, perhaps,” said the banker, “and I was thinking of my bank. I have not been hunting, but _hunted_ all the week by a _pack of fools_.”

THE KING IN A SQUABBLE.

A recruiting sergeant, addressing an honest country bumpkin in one of the streets of Manchester, with--“Come, my lad, thou’lt fight for thy king, won’t thou?” “Voight for my king,” answered Hodge, “why, has he _fawn out_ wi’ ony body?”

A WIDOW REQUIRES PICKLING.

Dr. James was sent for to a widow lady, who was not very well, who asked him if sea bathing would not be a very good thing for her? “Why, yes, madam, if a widow won’t _keep_ without being _salted_.”

ARMS.

The Duchess of Kingston, who was remarkable for having a very high sense of her own dignity, being one day detained in her carriage by a cart of coals that was unloading in the street, she leaned with both her arms upon the door, and asked the fellow, “How dare you, sirrah, stop a woman of quality in the street?” “Woman of quality,” replied the man. “Yes, fellow,” rejoined her grace, “don’t you see my arms upon my carriage?” “Yes, I do indeed,” says he, “and a pair of plaguy coarse arms they are.”

A MOVING DISCOURSE.