NE morning [Jerrold and Compton] proceeded together to view the pictures in the Gallery of Illustration. On entering the ante-room, they found themselves opposite to a number of very long looking-glasses. Pausing before one of these, [Compton] remarked to Jerrold, "You've come here to admire works of art! Very well, first feast your eyes on that work of nature!"—pointing to his own figure reflected in the glass; "look at it, there's a picture for you!" "Yes," said Jerrold, regarding it intently, "very fine, very fine indeed!" Then, turning to his friend: "Wants hanging, though!"
Memoir of Henry Compton.
ING for the garish eye,
When moonless brandlings cling!
Let the froddering crooner cry,
And the braddled sapster sing.
For never, and never again,
Will the tottering beechlings play,
For bratticed wrackers are singing aloud,
And the throngers croon in May!
W. S. Gilbert.
YDNEY SMITH said of a certain quarrelsome person that his very face was a breach of the peace.
J. T. Fields, Yesterdays with Authors.