MCCCXXXVII.—SOMETHING TO BE PROUD OF.
Sheridan was once talking to a friend about the Prince Regent, who took great credit to himself for various public measures, as if they had been directed by his political skill, or foreseen by his political sagacity. "But," said Sheridan, "what his Royal Highness more particularly prides himself in, is the late excellent harvest."
MCCCXXXVIII.—FAIRLY WON.
The only practical joke in which Richard Harris Barham (better known by his nom-de-plume of Thomas Ingoldsby) ever personally engaged, was enacted when he was a boy at Canterbury. In company with a schoolfellow, D——, now a gallant major, he entered a Quakers' meeting-house; when, looking round at the grave assembly, the latter held up a penny tart, and said solemnly, "Whoever speaks first shall have this pie."—"Go thy way, boy," said a drab-colored gentleman, rising; "go thy way, and——"—"The pie's yours, sir!" exclaimed D——, placing it before the astonished speaker, and hastily effecting his escape.
MCCCXXXIX.—A FORTUNATE EXPEDIENT.
A gentleman of Trinity College, travelling through France, was annoyed at the slowness of the pace, and wishing to urge the postilion to greater speed, tried his bad French until he was out of patience. At last it occurred to him that, if he was not understood, he might at least frighten the fellow by using some high-sounding words, and he roared into the ear of the postilion: "Westmoreland, Cumberland, Northumberland, Durham!" which the fellow mistaking for some tremendous threat, had the desired effect, and induced him to increase his speed.
MCCCXL.—ON THE FOUR GEORGES.
George the First was always reckoned
Vile,—but viler, George the Second;
And what mortal ever heard
Any good of George the Third?
When from earth the Fourth descended,
God be praised, the Georges ended.
MCCCXLI.—WHAT EVERYBODY DOES.
Hopkins once lent Simpson, his next door neighbor, an umbrella, and having an urgent call to make on a wet day, knocked at Simpson's door. "I want my umbrella."—"Can't have it," said Simpson. "Why? I want to go to the East End, and it rains in torrents; what am I to do for an umbrella?"—"Do?" answered Simpson, passing through the door, "do as I did, borrow one!"