CCCLXXXII.—MARRIAGE.
A widower, having taken another wife, was, nevertheless, always paying some panegyric to the memory of his late spouse, in the presence of his present one; who one day added, with great feeling, "Believe me, my dear, nobody regrets her loss more than I do."
CCCLXXXIII.—FISHING FOR A COMPLIMENT.
A young man having preached for the doctor one day, was anxious to get a word of applause for his labor of love. The grave doctor, however, did not introduce the subject, and his younger brother was obliged to bait the hook for him. "I hope, sir, I did not weary your people by the length of my sermon to-day?"—"No, sir, not at all; nor by the depth either!" The young man was silent.
CCCLXXXIV.—VISIBLE PROOF.
An Irishman being asked on a late trial for a certificate of his marriage, exhibited a huge scar on his head, which looked as though it might have been made with a fire-shovel. The evidence was satisfactory.
CCCLXXXV.—SIMPLICITY OF THE LEARNED PORSON.
The great scholar had a horror of the east wind; and Tom Sheridan once kept him prisoner in the house for a fortnight by fixing the weathercock in that direction.
CCCLXXXVI.—EPIGRAM ADDRESSED TO MISS EDGEWORTH.
We every-day bards may "Anonymous" sign:
That refuge, Miss Edgeworth, can never be thine:
Thy writings, where satire and moral unite,
Must bring forth the name of their author to light.
Good and bad join in telling the source of their birth,
The bad own their Edge and the good own their worth.