The Jest Book Part 35

SAYS Kemble to Lewis, "Pray what is your play?"

Cries Lewis to Kemble, "The _Lie of the Day_!"

"Say you so?" replied Kemble; "why, we _act the same_; But to cozen the town we adopt a _new name_; For that _Vortigern's_ Shakespeare's we some of us say, Which you very well know is a _lie_ of the day."

DCXXIV.--A GOOD ONE.

LAMB and Coleridge were talking together on the incidents of Coleridge's early life, when he was beginning his career in the church, and Coleridge was describing some of the facts in his usual tone, when he paused, and said, "Pray, Mr. Lamb, did you ever hear me preach?"--"I _never_ heard you do anything else!" said Lamb.

DCXXV.--"WRITE ME DOWN AN a.s.s."

A VERY stupid foreman asked a judge how they were to _ignore_ a bill.

"Write _Ignoramus for self and fellows_ on the back of it," said Curran.

DCXXVI.--A WORD TO THE WISE.

DR. BALGUY, a preacher of great celebrity, after having preached an excellent discourse at Winchester Cathedral, the text of which was, "All wisdom is sorrow," received the following elegant compliment from Dr.

Wharton, then at Winchester school:--

If what you advance, dear doctor, be true, That "wisdom is sorrow," how wretched are you.

DCXXVII.--LIBERAL GIFT.

A COMEDIAN at Covent Garden advised one of the scene-shifters, who had met with an accident, to try a subscription; and a few days afterwards he asked for the list of names, which, when he had read over, he returned. "Why, sir," says the poor fellow, "won't you give me something?"--"Why, zounds, man," replied the comedian, "didn't I _give_ you the _hint_?"

DCXXVIII.--EASILY ANSWERED.

A CERTAIN Lord Mayor hearing of a gentleman who had had the small-pox twice, and died of it, asked, if he died the first time or the second.

DCXXIX.--ON THE LATIN GERUNDS.

WHEN Dido mourned, aeneas would not come, She wept in silence, and was _Di-Do-Dumb_.

DCx.x.x.--DODGING A CREDITOR.

A CREDITOR, whom he was anxious to avoid, met Sheridan coming out of Pall Mall. There was no possibility of avoiding him, but he did not lose his presence of mind. "That's a beautiful mare you are on!" said Sheridan. "Do you think so?"--"Yes, indeed! how does she trot?" The creditor, highly flattered, put her into full trot. Sheridan bolted round the corner, and was _out of sight_ in a moment.

DCx.x.xI.--BAD HABIT.

SIR FREDERICK FLOOD had a droll habit, of which he could never effectually break himself. Whenever a person at his back whispered or suggested anything to him whilst he was speaking in public, without a moment's reflection, he always repeated the suggestion _literatim_. Sir Frederick was once making a long speech in the Irish Parliament, lauding the transcendent merits of the Wexford magistracy, on a motion for extending the criminal jurisdiction in that county, to keep down the disaffected. As he was closing a most turgid oration by declaring "that the said magistracy ought to receive some signal mark of the Lord-Lieutenant's favor," John Egan, who was rather mellow, and sitting behind him, jocularly whispered, "_and be whipped at the cart's tail_."--"And be whipped at the cart's tail!" repeated Sir Frederick unconsciously, amidst peals of uncontrollable laughter.

DCx.x.xII.--WHO'S TO BLAME.

KING JAMES used to say, that he never knew a modest man make his way in a court. As he was repeating this expression one day, a David Floyd, who was then in waiting at his Majesty's elbow, replied bluntly, "Pray, sir, whose _fault_ is that!" The king stood corrected, and was silent.

DCx.x.xIII.--THE LETTER H.

SIR JAMES SCARLETT, when at the Bar, had to cross-examine a witness whose evidence it was thought would be very damaging, unless he could be bothered a little, and his only vulnerable point was said to be his self-esteem. The witness presented himself in the box,--a portly, overdressed person,--and Scarlett took him in hand.

_Q._ Mr. John Tomkins, I believe?

_A._ Yes.

_Q._ You are a stock-broker?

_A._ I _ham_!

Scarlett regarded him attentively for a few moments, and then said: "And a very fine, well-dressed _ham_ you are, sir?"

The shouts of laughter which followed completely disconcerted the witness, and the counsel's point was gained.

DCx.x.xIV.--TRUTH AND RHYME.

IN the days of Charles II., candidates for holy orders were expected to respond in Latin to the various interrogatories put to them by the bishop or his examining chaplain. When the celebrated Dr. Isaac Barrow (who was fellow of Trinity College, and tutor to the immortal Newton) had taken his bachelor's degree, he presented himself before the bishop's chaplain, who, with the stiff stern visage of the times, said to Barrow,--

"_Quid est fides_?" (What is faith?)

"_Quod non vides_" (What thou dost not see),

answered Barrow with the utmost prompt.i.tude. The chaplain, a little vexed at Barrow's laconic answer, continued,--

"_Quid est spes_?" (What is hope?)

"_Magna res_" (A great thing),

replied the young candidate in the same breath.

"_Quid est charitas_?" (What is charity?)

was the next question.

"_Magna raritas_" (A great rarity),

was again the prompt reply of Barrow, blending truth and rhyme with a precision that staggered the reverend examiner, who went direct to the bishop and told him that a young Cantab had thought proper to give rhyming answers to three several moral questions, and added that he believed his name was Barrow, of Trinity College, Cambridge. "Barrow, Barrow!" said the bishop, who well knew the literary and moral worth of the young Cantab, "if that's the case, ask him no more questions, for he is much better qualified," continued his lordship, "to _examine us than we him_." Barrow received his letters of orders forthwith.

DCx.x.xV.--A GOOD TRANSLATION.

"PISTOR erat quondam, laborando qui fregit collum: Qui fregit collum, collum fregitque suum."