Happiness grows at our own firesides, and is not to be picked in strangers' gardens.
CLXXXIV.—TRANSPOSING A COMPLIMENT.
It was said of a work (which had been inspected by a severe critic), in terms which at first appeared very flattering, "There is a great deal in this book which is new, and a great deal that is true." So far good, the author would think; but then came the negation: "But it unfortunately happens, that those portions which are new are not true, and those which are true are not new!"
CLXXXV.—A HANDSOME CONTRIBUTION.
A gentleman waited upon Jerrold one morning to enlist his sympathies in behalf of a mutual friend, who was constantly in want of a round sum of money.
"Well," said Jerrold, who had contributed on former occasions, "how much does —— want this time?"
"Why, just a four and two noughts will, I think, put him straight," the bearer of the hat replied.
Jerrold.—"Well, put me down for one of the noughts this time."
CLXXXVI.—WASTE OF TIME.
An old man of ninety having recovered from a very dangerous illness, his friends congratulated him, and encouraged him to get up. "Alas!" said he to them, "it is hardly worth while to dress myself again."