DCCCXXXIII.—A BAD LOT.
The household furniture of an English barrister, then recently deceased, was being sold, in a country town, when one neighbor remarked to another that the stock of goods and chattels appeared to be extremely scanty, considering the rank of the lawyer, their late owner. "It is so," was the reply; "but the fact is, he had very few causes, and therefore could not have many effects."
DCCCXXXIV.—FILIAL AFFECTION.
Two ladies who inhabit Wapping were having some words together on the pavement, when the daughter of one of them popped her head out of the door, and exclaimed "Hurry, mother, and call her a thief before she calls you one."
DCCCXXXV.—LEG WIT.
One night Erskine was hastening out of the House of Commons, when he was stopped by a member going in, who accosted him, "Who's up, Erskine?"—"Windham," was the reply. "What's he on?"—"His legs," answered the wit.
DCCCXXXVI.—EPIGRAM ON DR. GLYNN'S BEAUTY.
"This morning, quite dead, Tom was found in his bed,
Although he was hearty last night;
'Tis thought having seen Dr. Glynn in a dream,
The poor fellow died of affright."
DCCCXXXVII.—A SINECURE.
One Patrick Maguire had been appointed to a situation the reverse of a place of all work; and his friends, who called to congratulate him, were very much astonished to see his face lengthened on the receipt of the news. "A sinecure is it?" exclaimed Pat. "Sure I know what a sinecure is: it's a place where there's nothing to do, and they pay you by the piece."