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FREDERICK LOCKER, _Patchwork_.
All men are equal, the Frenchman says; Most men will gladly receive What a fervid fool, with a flattering phrase, Tricks out for fools to believe; But these men have less brains than a wren!
When a larch is a lily, And Bessy like Billy A beard shall achieve, Then I will believe That equality reigns among men!
J. S. BLACKIE, _Musa Burschicosa_.
I'm not one o' those who can see the cat i' the dairy, an' wonder what she's come after.
_Mrs. Poyser_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Adam Bede_.
I called him Selim, to express The marked s(e)limness of his form.
_Songs of Singularity._
"Yes," he exclaimed, "as the sublime Tyndall tells us, let us struggle to attain to a deeper knowledge of matter, and a more faithful conformity to its laws!"
The professor would have proceeded, but the weather had been rapidly growing rough, and he here became violently sea-sick.
"Let us," he exclaimed hurriedly, "conform to the laws of matter and go below."
W. H. MALLOCK, _The New Paul and Virginia_.
What can Tommy Onslow do?
He can drive a curricle and two.
Can Tommy Onslow do no more?
Yes, he can drive a phaeton and four.
ANON., in GRONOW's _Recollections_.
Hicks and Thackeray, walking together, stopped opposite a doorway, over which was inscribed in gold letters these words: "Mutual Loan Office."
They both seemed equally puzzled. "What on earth can that mean?" asked Hicks. "I don't know," answered Thackeray, "unless it means, that two men, who have nothing, agree to lend it to one another."
J. C. YOUNG, _Diary_.
A clod--a piece of orange-peel-- An end of a cigar,-- Once trod on by a princely heel, How beautiful they are!
C. S. CALVERLEY, _Fly Leaves_.
In the onion is the hope of universal brotherhood.
Look at Italy. In the churches all are alike; there is one faith, one smell.
C. D. WARNER, _My Summer in a Garden_.
He was "free to confess" (whence comes this phrase?
Is't English? No--'tis only parliamentary).
LORD BYRON, _Don Juan_.
"Ah!" says my languid Oxford gentleman, "nothing new, and nothing true, and no matter."
R. W. EMERSON.
He dropt a tear on Susan's bier, He seem'd a most despairing swain; Yet bluer sky brought newer tie, And would he wish her back again?
The moments fly, and when we die Will Philly Thistletop complain?
She'll cry and sigh, and--dry her eye, And let herself be woo'd again.
FREDERICK LOCKER, _London Lyrics_.
One 'ud think, an hear some folks talk, as the men war 'cute enough to count the corns in a bag o' wheat wi' only smelling at it. They can see through a barn door, they can. Perhaps that's the reason they see so little o' this side on't.
_Mrs. Poyser_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Adam Bede_.
Thy flattering picture, Phryne, 's like to thee Only in this--that you both painted be.
JOHN DONNE.
Without black velvet breeches, what is man?
JOHN BRAMSTON, _Man of Taste_.
_A KISS._
Rose kissed me to-day,-- Will she kiss me to-morrow?
Let it be as it may, Rose kissed me to-day.
But the pleasure gives way To a savour of sorrow;-- Rose kissed me to-day,-- _Will_ she kiss me to-morrow?
AUSTIN DOBSON, _Proverbs in Porcelain_.
Humility is a virtue all preach, none practise, and yet everybody is content to hear.
SELDEN, _Table Talk_.