NOW, then, that when that touching scene
Had reached its tenderest pitch,
When all was pathos, calm, serene,
His nose began to itch.
'Twas sad, but so it came to pass,
The knight might chafe and frown,
But could not reach it, for alas!
He wore his vizor down.
Songs of Singularity.
REMEMBER asking [Bagehot] if he had enjoyed a particular dinner which he had rather expected to enjoy, but he replied, "No, the sherry was bad; tasted as if L—— had dropped his h's into it."
R. H. Hutton, Memoir of W. Bagehot.
HEN Beings of the fairer sex
Arrange their white arms round our necks,
We are, we ought to be, enraptured.
Frederick Locker, London Lyrics.
RAY, Mr. Foote, do you ever go to church?"
"No, madam; not that I see any harm in it."