549. A Scotchman maintained that the Garden of Eden was certainly placed in Scotland. For said he, have we not, all within a mile of one another, Adam’s Mount, the Elysian Fields, Paradise Place, and the city of Eden-burgh?
550. A wealthy merchant of Fenchurch Street, lamenting to a confidential friend that his daughter had eloped with one of his footmen, concluded by saying, Yet I wish to forgive the girl, and receive her husband, as it is now too late to part them. But then, his condition; how can I introduce him? Nonsense, replied his companion, introduce him as a Livery-man of the city.
551. A gentleman perceiving the common-crier of Bristol unemployed, inquired the reason: I can’t cry to-day, sir, said he, my wife is just dead.
552. Truth is not unfrequently extracted by accident. Mr. L., whose police office is frequently clamorous with the litigators of shilling warrants, suddenly called out, Silence there! There’s been, added he, two or three people committed already, and I have not heard a word they have said.
553. A wag called on his friend at his country-house, and perceiving him running very fast through his grounds to meet him, told the gentleman he was very sorry to see him go on so ill? Why so? replied the other. I see, rejoined the wag, you are running through your estate very fast.
554. An Irish captain being on the ocean, many leagues from the most remote part of land, beheld at a short distance four sail of ships, and in the joy of his heart exclaimed, Arrah! my lads, pipe all hands on deck to behold this rich landscape.
555. An Hibernian schoolmaster, settled in a village near London, who advertised that he intended to keep a Sunday-school twice a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays, reminds us of the mock mayor of a place in the west, who declared on his election, that he was resolved to hold his Quarter Sessions monthly.
556. A Londoner told his friend he was going to Margate for a change of hair. You had better, said the other, go to the wig-maker’s shop.
557. When Lieutenant O’Brien (who was called Sky-rocket Jack) was blown up at Spithead, in the Edgar, he was on the carriage of a gun, and being brought to the admiral, all black and wet, he said with pleasantry, I hope, sir, you will excuse my dirty appearance, for I came out of the ship in so great a hurry, that I had not time to shift myself.