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"There is no middle course," said Charles X. to Talleyrand, "between the throne and the scaffold!" "Your Majesty forgets the post-chaise!"
CRABB ROBINSON, _Diary_.
I could not, while you shone, Run all that heartless _babble off_ That marks the modern _Babylon_.
ROBERT REECE, in _Comic Poets_.
_TO AN IMPORTUNATE HOST DURING DINNER AND AFTER TENNYSON._
Ask me no more: I've had enough Chablis; The wine may come again, and take the shape, From gla.s.s to gla.s.s, of "Mountain" or of "Cape;"
But, my dear boy, when I have answered thee, Ask me no more.
Ask me no more: what answer should I give?
I love not pickled pork nor partridge pie; I feel if I took whisky I should die; Ask me no more--for I prefer to live: Ask me no more.
Ask me no more: unless my fate is sealed, And I have striven against you all in vain: Let your good butler bring me Hock again: Then rest, dear boy. If for this once I yield, Ask me no more.
W. D. A.
Sir Robert Grant told a story well, and could pun successfully without boring. By way of instance, on the beach at Sidmouth he p.r.o.nounced the six beautiful Miss Twopennys to be the "Splendid shilling."
LORD TEIGNMOUTH, _Reminiscences_.
Oh to be wafted away From this black Aceldama of sorrow, Where the dust of an earthy to-day, Is the earth of a dusty to-morrow!
_Bunthorne_, in W. S. GILBERT's _Patience_.
One said, painters were cunning fellows, for they had a colour for everything they did.
_Conceits, Clinches_, etc. (1639).
Dey vent to hear a breecher of De last sensadion shtyle, 'Twas 'nough to make der tyfel weep To see his "awful shmile."
"Vot bities dat der Fechter ne'er Vos in Theologie.
Dey'd make him pishop in dis shoorsh,"
Said Breitmann, said he.
C. G. LELAND, _Breitmann Ballads_.
"Oh! Pat; and what do you think will be your feelings on the day of judgment when you meet Mrs. Mahoney, and the pig you stole from her, face to face?" "Does your reverence think the pig will be there?" "Ay, indeed, will he; and what will ye say then?" "I shall say, your reverence, 'Mrs. Mahoney, dear, here's the pig that I borrowed of ye, and I'm mighty glad to have this opportunity of restoring him!'"
_Life of Rev. W. Harness._
_In vino veritas!_--which means A man's a very a.s.s in liquor; The "thief that slowly steals our brains"
Makes nothing but the temper quicker.
Next morning brings a train of woes, But finds the pa.s.sions much sedater-- Who was it, now, that pulled my nose?-- I'd better go and ask the waiter.
H. CHOLMONDELEY PENNELL, _Pegasus Resaddled_.
Jones, the tailor, was asked by a customer, who thought much of his cut, to go down and have some shooting with him in the country. Among the party was the Duke of Northumberland. "Well, Mr. Jones," observed his Grace, "I'm glad to see that you are becoming a sportsman. What sort of gun do you shoot with?" "Oh, with a double-breasted one, your Grace," was the reply.
_Life of Rev. W. Harness._
Now wedlock is a sober thing, No more of chains or forges!
A plain young man, a plain gold ring, The curate, and St. George's.
EDWARD FITZGERALD.
The greatest advantage I know of being thought a wit by the world, is, that it gives one the greater freedom of playing the fool.
POPE, _Thoughts on Various Subjects_.
Conceive me, if you can, An every-day young man: A common-place type, With a stick and a pipe, And a half-bred black-and-tan; Who thinks suburban "hops"
More fun than "Monday Pops"; Who's fond of his dinner, And doesn't get thinner, On bottled beer and chops;-- A common-place young man-- A matter-of-fact young man-- A steady and stolid-y, jolly Bank-holiday Every-day young man!
_Grosvenor_, in W. S. GILBERT's _Patience_.
I do not so much want to avoid being cheated, as to afford the expense of being so; the generality of mankind being seldom in good humour but whilst they are imposing upon you in some shape or other.
SHENSTONE, _Essays_.
Only think, to have lords overrunning the nation, As plenty as frogs in a Dutch inundation; No shelter from barons, from earls no protection, And tadpole young lords, too, in every direction,-- Things created in haste, just to make a court list of, Two legs and a coronet all they consist of!
THOMAS MOORE.
Lo! the king, his footsteps this way bending, His cogitative faculties immersed In cogibundity of cogitation.
_Aldiborontiphoscophornio_, in CAREY's _Chrononhotonthologos_.
It is with narrow-souled people, as with narrow-necked bottles: the less they have in them, the more noise they make in pouring out.
POPE, _Thoughts on Various Subjects_.