"Hear yonder beggar, how he cries,
I am so lame I cannot rise!
If he tells truth, he lies."
"Do you understand that?"
S——. "No! If he tells truth, he lies! No, he can't both tell truth and tell a lie at the same time; that's impossible."
Mr. ——. "Then there is something in the words which you don't understand: in the common sense of the words, they contradict each other; but try if you can find out any uncommon sense—any word which can be understood in two senses."
S—— muttered the words, "If he tells truth, he lies," and looked indignant, but presently said, "Oh, now I understand; the beggar was lying down; he lies, means he lies down, not he tells a lie."
The perception of the double meaning of the words, did not seem to please this boy; on the contrary, it seemed to provoke him; and he appeared to think that he had wasted his time upon the discovery.
Mr. ——. "Now I will give you an instance of wit that depends upon the ideas, rather than on the words. A man of very bad character had told falsehoods of another, who then made these two lines;
"Lie on, whilst my revenge shall be,
To tell the very truth of thee."
S—— approved of this immediately, and heartily, and recollected the only epigram he knew by rote, one which he had heard in conversation two or three months before this time. It was made upon a tall, stupid man, who had challenged another to make an epigram extempore upon him.
Unlike to Robinson shall be my song;
It shall be witty, and it shan't be long.