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, Æneas would not come,
She wept in silence, and was Di-Do-Dumb.
DCXXX.—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.
DCXXXI.—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.