"They well-nigh stun one," said he, in reference to a morning concert, "with those terrible wind instruments, which roar away in defiance of all rule, except that which Hoyle addresses to young whist-players when in doubt—trump it!"
THE WINE-CELLAR AND THE BOOK-SELLER.
Theodore Hook's saying to some man with whom a bibliopolist dined the other day, and got extremely drunk, "Why, you appear to me to have emptied your wine-cellar into your book-seller."—Moore's Diary, Feb., 1836.
SIR ROBERT PEEL'S ANECDOTES OF THEODORE HOOK.
The late Sir Robert Peel was strongly impressed with Hook's conversational powers and the genuine readiness of his wit; in illustration of this, he used to relate, among others, the following anecdote:—One morning, at Drayton Manor, where Hook was staying as a guest, some one after breakfast happened to read out from the newspaper a paragraph, in which a well-known coroner was charged with having had a corpse unnecessarily disinterred. The ladies were very severe in condemnation of such unfeeling conduct; a gallant captain, however, who was present, took up the cudgels in behalf of the accused, maintaining that he was a very kind-hearted man, and incapable of doing anything without strong reasons, calculated to annoy the friends of the deceased. The contest waxed warm: "Come," said Captain ——, at length, turning to Hook, who was poring over the Times in a corner of the room, and who had taken no part in the discussion, "you know W——, what do you think of him? Is he not a good-tempered, good-natured fellow?"
"Indeed he is," replied Hook, laying aside his paper, "I should say he was just the very man to give a body a lift."
On the same authority, we may repeat a pun made at the expense of the Duke of Rutland. There was a grand entertainment at Belvoir Castle, on the occasion of the coming of age of the Marquis of Granby; the company were going out to see the fireworks, when Hook came, in great tribulation, to the Duke, who was standing near Sir Robert, and said, "Now isn't this provoking! I've lost my hat—what can I do?" "Why the deuce," returned his grace, "did you part with your hat?—I never do!" "Yes," rejoined Theodore, "but you have especially good reasons for sticking to your Beaver."[78]