LITMIR.BIZ

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as Coashon a gences Leting your fouls Coming Eting and destrowing My Pegs vettles and if so be you Let them Com on My Premses hafter this Noddes I will kil them.

      "Rd. Gold."

      CLVII.—NATIVE WIT.

      John was thought to be very stupid. He was sent to a mill one day, and the miller said, "John, some people say you are a fool! Now, tell me what you do know, and what you don't know."—"Well," replied John, "I know millers' hogs are fat!"—"Yes, that's well, John! Now, what don't you know?"—"I don't know whose corn fats 'em!"

      CLVIII.—WORTH THE MONEY.

      Sir Robert Walpole having misquoted a passage in Horace, Mr. Pulteney said the honorable gentleman's Latin was as bad as his politics. Sir Robert adhered to his version, and bet his opponent a guinea that he was right, proposing Mr. Harding as arbiter. The bet being accepted, Harding rose, and with ludicrous solemnity gave his decision against his patron. The guinea was thrown across the House; and when Pulteney stooped to pick it up, he observed, that "it was the first public money he had touched for a long time." After his death, the guinea was found wrapped up in a piece of paper on which the circumstance was recorded.

      CLIX.—SUITED TO HIS SUBJECT.

      The ballot was, it seems, first proposed in 1795, by Major Cart-wright, who somewhat appropriately wrote a book upon the Common-Wheel.

      CLX.—NOT versus NOTT.

      A gentleman of Maudlin, whose name was Nott, returning late from his friend's rooms, attracted the attention of the proctor, who demanded his name and college. "I am Nott of Maudlin," was the reply, hiccupping. "Sir," said the proctor, in an angry tone, "I did not ask of what college you are not, but of what college you are."—"I am Nott of Maudlin," was again the broken reply. The proctor, enraged at what he considered contumely, insisted on accompanying him to Maudlin, and demanded of the porter, "whether he knew the gentleman."—"Know him, sir," said the porter, "yes, it is Mr. Nott of this college." The proctor now perceived his error in not understanding the gentleman, and wished him a good night.

      CLXI.—A COCKNEY EPIGRAM.

      In Parliament, it's plain enough,

       No reverence for age appears;

       For they who hear each speaker's stuff, Find there is no respect for (y) ears.

      CLXII.—THE PINK OF POLITENESS.

      Lord Berkeley was once dining with Lord Chesterfield (the pink of politeness) and a large party, when it was usual to drink wine until they were mellow. Berkeley had by accident shot one of his gamekeepers, and Chesterfield, under the warmth of wine, said, "Pray, my Lord Berkeley, how long is it since you shot a gamekeeper?"—"Not since you hanged your tutor, my lord!" was the reply. You know that Lord Chesterfield brought Dr. Dodd to trial, in consequence of which he was hanged.

      CLXIII.—HIGH AND LOW.

      "I expect six clergymen to dine with me on such a day," said a gentleman to his butler. "Very good, sir," said the butler. "Are they High Church or Low Church, sir?"—"What on earth can that signify to you?" asked the astonished master. "Every thing, sir," was the reply. "If they are High Church, they'll drink; if they are Low Church, they'll eat!"

      CLXIV.—CITY LOVE.

      In making love let poor men sigh,

       But love that's ready-made is better

       For men of business;—so I,

       If madam will be cruel, let her.

       But should she wish that I should wait

       And miss the 'Change—oh no, I thank her,

       I court by deed, or after date, Through my solicitor or banker.

      CLXV.—INGENIOUS REPLY OF A SOLDIER.

      A soldier in the army of the Duke of Marlborough took the name of that general, who reprimanded him for it. "How am I to blame, general?" said the soldier. "I have the choice of names; if I had known one more illustrious than yours, I should have taken it."

      CLXVI.—LORD CHESTERFIELD.

      When Lord Chesterfield was in administration, he proposed a person to his late majesty as proper to fill a place of great trust, but which the king himself was determined should be filled by another. The council, however, resolved not to indulge the king, for fear of a dangerous precedent, and it was Lord Chesterfield's business to present the grant of office for the king's signature. Not to incense his majesty by asking him abruptly, he, with accents of great humility, begged to know with whose name his majesty would be pleased to have the blanks filled up. "With the devil's!" replied the king, in a paroxysm of rage. "And shall the instrument," said the Earl, coolly, "run as usual, Our trusty and well-beloved cousin and counsellor?"—a repartee at which the king laughed heartily, and with great good-humor signed the grant.

      CLXVII.—SPECIAL PLEADING.

      When a very eminent special pleader was asked by a country gentleman if he considered that his son was likely to succeed as a special pleader, he replied, "Pray, sir, can your son eat saw-dust without butter?"

      CLXVIII.—ON A NEW DUKE.

      Ask you why gold and velvet bind

       The temples of that cringing thief?

       Is it so strange a thing to find

       A toad beneath a strawberry leaf?

      CLXIX.—THE ZODIAC CLUB.

      On the occasion of starting a convivial club, somebody proposed that it should consist of twelve members, and be called "The Zodiac," each member to be named after a sign.

      "And what shall I be?" inquired a somewhat solemn man, who was afraid that his name would be forgotten.

      Jerrold.—"Oh, we'll bring you in as the weight in Libra."

      CLXX.—QUIN'S SOLILOQUY ON SEEING THE EMBALMED BODY OF DUKE HUMPHREY, AT ST. ALBAN'S.

      "A plague on Egypt's arts, I say—

       Embalm the dead—on senseless clay

       Rich wine and spices waste:

       Like sturgeon, or like brawn, shall I,

       Bound in a precious pickle lie,

       Which I can never taste!

       Let me embalm this flesh of mine,

       With turtle fat, and Bourdeaux wine,

       And spoil the Egyptian trade,

       Than Glo'ster's Duke, more happy I,

       Embalm'd alive, old Quin shall lie

       A mummy ready made."

      CLXXI.—STRIKING REPROOF.

      It being reported that Lady Caroline Lamb had, in a moment of passion, knocked down one of her pages with a stool, the poet Moore, to whom this was told by Lord Strangford, observed: "Oh! nothing is more natural for a literary lady than to double down a page."—"I would rather," replied his lordship, "advise Caroline to turn over a new leaf."

      CLXXII.—A PRETTY PICTURE.

      E—— taking the portrait of a lady, perceived

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