A LAWYER’S LAST STAGE.
A Cornish clergyman having a dispute concerning several shares in different mines, found it necessary to send for a London limb of the law to have some conversation with the witnesses, examine the title-deeds, view the premises, &c. The divine very soon found that his legal assistant was as great a scoundrel as ever was struck off the rolls. However, as he thought his knowledge might be useful, he shewed him his papers, took him to compare his surveyor’s drawings, with the situation of the pits, &c. When, in one of these excursions, the professional gentleman was descending a deep shaft by means of a rope which he held tight in his hand, he called out to the parson who stood at the top, “Doctor, as you have not confined your studies to geography, but know all things from the surface to the centre, pray how far is it from this pit to that in the infernal regions?” “I cannot exactly ascertain the distance,” replied the divine, “but let go your hold and you’ll be there in a minute.”
NEWSPAPER OBITUARIES.
It was once stated in a newspaper that a person was killed by accident, and that his wife was so much affected by the incident as to leave it doubtful whether she would survive him. A gentleman, to whom this blunder was shewn, observed that all the absurdly penned notices of deaths in the newspapers arose from people writing their own obituaries.
A STRIKING LIKENESS.
Lord Chesterfield having been long very earnestly solicited for his interest in favour of a clergyman who wanted preferment, at length presented his suitor with an engraved portrait of his head. The parson thanked him, and after some time had elapsed, told him that though he did not as formerly attend his levee every day, he regularly paid his court to his portrait. “And pray,” said the sarcastic peer, “have you got any thing of it?” “No, my Lord,” replied he, “it has too strong a resemblance to the original for that.”
A PUSH AT A PRIME MINISTER.
The Duke of Newcastle, when prime minister, once told the author of Tristram Shandy, that men of wit were not fit to be employed, being incapable of business. “They are not incapable of business, my Lord, but above it,” replied Sterne; “a sprightly generous horse is able to carry a pack-saddle as well as an ass, but he is too good to be put to the drudgery.”
FISHING FOR COMPLIMENTS.
“I really can’t sing, believe me, sir,” was the reply of a young lady to the repeated requests of an empty fop. “I am rather inclined to believe, madam,” rejoined he, with a smirk, “that you are fishing for compliments.” “No, sir,” exclaimed the lady, “I never fish in so shallow a stream.”