The Jest Book<br />The Choicest Anecdotes and Sayings by Mark Lemon (christmas read aloud TXT) 📗

It sounds like paradox,—and yet 'tis true,
You're like your picture, though it's not like you.
MCCXII.—RATHER A-CURATE.

It is strange that the Church dignitaries, the further they advance in their profession, become the more incorrigible; at least, before they have gone many steps, they may be said to be past a cure.

MCCXIII.—MONEY'S WORTH.

A rich upstart once asked a poor person if he had any idea of the advantages arising from riches. "I believe they give a rogue an advantage over an honest man," was the reply.

MCCXIV.—THE RICHMOND HOAX.

One of the best practical jokes in Theodore Hook's clever "Gilbert Gurney," is Daly's hoax upon the lady who had never been at Richmond before, or, at least, knew none of the peculiarities of the place. Daly desired the waiter, after dinner, to bring some "maids of honor"—those cheesecakes for which the place has, time out of mind, been celebrated. The lady stared, then laughed, and asked, "What do you mean by 'maids of honor?'"—"Dear me!" said Daly, "don't you know that this is so courtly a place, and so completely under the influence of state etiquette, that everything in Richmond is called after the functionaries of the palace? What are called cheesecakes elsewhere, are here called maids of honor; a[Pg 263] capon is called a lord chamberlain; a goose is a lord steward; a roast pig is a master of the horse; a pair of ducks, grooms of the bedchamber; a gooseberry-tart, a gentleman usher of the black rod; and so on." The unsophisticated lady was taken in, when she actually saw the maids of honor make their appearance in the shape of cheesecakes; she convulsed the whole party by turning to the waiter, and desiring him, in a sweet but decided tone, to bring her a gentleman usher of the black rod, if they had one in the house quite cold!

MCCX.V.—LORD CHATHAM.

Lord Chatham had settled a plan for some sea expedition he had in view, and sent orders to Lord Anson to see the necessary arrangements taken immediately. Mr. Cleveland was sent from the Admiralty to remonstrate on the impossibility of obeying them. He found his lordship in the most excruciating pain, from one of the most severe fits of the gout he had ever experienced. "Impossible, sir," said he, "don't talk to me of impossibilities": and then, raising himself upon his legs, while the sweat stood in large drops upon his forehead, and every fibre of his body was convulsed with agony, "Go, sir, and tell his lordship, that he has to do with a minister who actually treads on impossibilities."

MCCXVI.—"I CAN GET THROUGH."

In the cloisters of Trinity College, beneath the library, are grated windows, through which many of the students have occasionally, after the gates were locked, taken the liberty of passing, without an exeat, in rather a novel style. A certain Cantab was in the act of drawing himself through the bars, and being more than an ordinary mortal's bulk, he stuck fast. One of the fellows of the college passing, stepped up to the student and asked him ironically, "If he should assist him?"—"Thank you," was the reply, "I can get through!" at the same instant he drew himself back on the outside.

MCCXVII.—MAKING FREE.

Formerly, members of parliament had the privilege of[Pg 264] franking letters sent by post. When this was so, a sender on one occasion applied to the post-office to know why some of his franked letters had been charged. He was told that the name on the letter did not appear to be in his handwriting. "It was not," he replied, "precisely the same; but the truth is, I happened to be a little tipsy when I franked them."—"Then, sir, will you be so good in future as to write drunk when you make free?"

MCCXVIII.—FICTION AND TRUTH.

Waller, the poet, who was bred at King's College, wrote a fine panegyric on Cromwell, when he assumed the protectorship. Upon the restoration of Charles, Waller wrote another in praise of him, and presented it to the king in person. After his majesty had read the poem, he told Waller that he wrote a better on Cromwell. "Please your majesty," said Waller, like a true courtier, "we poets are always more happy in fiction than in truth."

MCCXIX.—A TAVERN DINNER.

A party of bon-vivants, having drunk an immense quantity of wine, rang for the bill. The bill was accordingly brought, but the amount appeared so enormous to one of the company (not quite so far gone as the rest) that he stammered out, it was impossible so many bottles could have been drunk by seven persons. "True, sir," said the waiter, "but your honor forgets the three gentlemen under the table."

MCCXX.—A FULL STOP.

A gentleman was speaking of the kindness of his friends in visiting him. One old aunt, in particular, visited him twice a year, and stayed six months each time.

MCCXXI.—FAT AND LEAN.

A man, praising porter, said it was so excellent a beverage, that, though taken in great quantities, it always made him fat. "I have seen the time," said another, "when it made you lean,"—"When? I should be glad[Pg 265] to know," inquired the eulogist. "Why, no longer ago than last night,—against a wall."

MCCXXII.—SELF-CONDEMNATION.

Joseph II., emperor of Germany, travelling in his usual way, without his retinue, attended by only a single aide-de-camp, arrived very late at the house of an Englishman, who kept an inn in the Netherlands. After eating a few slices of ham and biscuit, the emperor and his attendant retired to rest, and in the morning paid their bill, which amounted to only three shillings and sixpence, English, and rode off. A few hours afterwards, several of his suite arrived, and the publican, understanding the rank of his guest, appeared very uneasy. "Psha! psha! man," said one of the attendants, "Joseph is accustomed to such adventures, and will think no more of it."—"But I shall" replied the landlord; "and never forgive myself for having had an emperor in my house, and letting him off for three and sixpence."

MCCXXIII.—NICKNAMES.

John Magee, formerly the printer of the Dublin Evening Post, was full of shrewdness and eccentricity. Several prosecutions were instituted against him by the government, and many "keen encounters of the tongue" took place on these occasions between him and John Scott, Lord Clonmel, who was at that period Chief Justice of the King's Bench. In addressing the Court in his own defence, Magee had occasion to allude to some public character, who was better known by a familiar designation. The official gravity of Clonmel was disturbed; and he, with bilious asperity, reproved the printer, by saying, "Mr. Magee, we allow no nicknames in this court,"—-"Very well, John Scott," was the reply.

MCCXXIV.—A CALCULATION.

After the death of the poet Chatterton, there was found among his papers, indorsed on a letter intended for publication, addressed to Beckford, then Lord Mayor, dated May 26, 1770, the following memorandum: "Accepted[Pg 266] by Bingley, set for, and thrown out of, the North Briton, 21st June, on account of the Lord Mayor's death:—