A fellow stole Lord Chatham's large gouty shoes: his servant, not finding them, began to curse the thief. "Never mind," said his lordship, "all the harm I wish the rogue is, that the shoes may fit him!"

CCXCII.—A DESERVED RETORT.

A spendthrift, who had nearly wasted all his patrimony, seeing an acquaintance in a coat not of the newest cut, told him that he thought it had been his great-grandfather's coat. "So it was," said the gentleman, "and I have also my great-grandfather's lands, which is more than you can say."

CCXCIII.—A POETICAL SHAPE.

When Mr. Pope once dined at Lord Chesterfield's, some one observed that he should have known Pope was a great poet by his very shape; for it was in and out, like the lines of a Pindaric ode.

CCXCIV.—A COMMON CASE.

A sailor meeting an old acquaintance, whom the world had frowned upon a little, asked him where he lived? "Where I live," said he, "I don't know; but I starve towards Wapping, and that way."

CCXCV.—EPIGRAM.

You beat your pate, and fancy wit will come:
Knock as you will, there's nobody at home.

CCXCVI.—TOO COLD TO CHANGE.