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UNLUCKY HINTS.

Bishop Burnet was very remarkable for his temporary absence of mind; in the days of the great Marlborough, he obtained an interview with bim, and was even asked to dine, but cautioned to be on his guard and not commit himself. Among other great company was Prince Eugene, who seeing a dignified clergyman present, asked who he was, and having heard he had been at Paris in 1680, asked him how long it was since he bad left it. Burnet, fluttered, answered with precipitation he could not recollect the year, but

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"An entirely new grand serio-comic-pantomimic-operatic-tragical Drama, called, The Idiot,' or Deaf, Dumb, and Blind.'

"In Act 1st. A scene of the interior of St. Bar

tholomew's Hospital, including various surgical operations, and a dance by invalids on crutches, with a pas seul by the matron.

and apothecaries, on a cattle-day, productive conIn Act 2d. A procession of physicians, surgeons, sequently of much comic confusion.

In Act 3d. A sea-fight by condemned malefacit was at the time that the Countess of Soissons was imprisoned on suspicion of practicing a con- tors, a proper number of whom will be killed on cealed mode of poisoning people. This lady of distinction. Scene, An Indian Coast: savage the stage, by particular desire of several persons happened to be the mother of Prince Eugene, and both parties' eyes being fixed upon each other, spectators by the patients of the Small-pox Hospital. then only he perceived his mistake, stammered, "In Act 4th. A new and unrivalled compoapologized, and retired in the utmost confusion. Upon another occasion, the Bishop dining one united efforts of our best musicians,) to be sung by sition, called The Whooping Cough;' (the day with Sarah Duchess of Marlborough, the conversation turned upon the ingratitude of the Go- Mr. Incledon. The execution of this bravura Ternment to the Duke, who had just lost his will completely immortalize the fame of the singer, places. Burnet aptly compared him to Belisarius; when her Grace asked what was the occasion of

Fidownfal?" Oh! madam, (says Burnet) poor
Belisarius had a shocking brimstone of a wife."

COOD HEALTH.

a

In Act 5th. A grand shock of electricity-an chorus of hysterical and hypocondriac persons, 'metic by the three Miss Stentors; an amputation & male and female; to conclude with an apoplectic fit, which carries off all the characters.

The Maniac and the Cripple.''

A healthy old gentleman was once asked by a" After which will be presented a Farce, called king, what physician and apothecary he made use of to look so well at his time of life. "Sire," replied the gentleman, my physician has always been a horse, and my apothecary an ass."

66

ATTRACTIVE PLAY-BILL.

Soon after the representation of the dramatic pieces of "Deaf and Dumb," and the "Blind Girl," the following whimsical advertisement appeared.

"We have the pleasure to announce to the public, that there is in preparation, and intended to be produced before Christmas (if it be possible by that time to complete the splendid profusion of

THE FARCE OF PHYSIC.

"The

When Dr., some years since, went to practise at Bath, a gentleman asked Dr. Delacour, what could bring a practitioner from the metropolis to open a shop in the country. reason," replied he," is obvious enough, sir; when a doctor breaks down on the London turf, he retires to cover at Bath for a guinea and a shilling."-" Why, my dear doctor, this makes physic a mere farce."-" True," rejoined he, "a direct farce, for it is generally the last act before the curtain drops."

THE BAKER'S FUNERAL.

her sufferings, and relieve her by marriage, from The death of Mr. Holland of Drury-lane theatre, the distresses, bolts, and bars, she labours under. who was the son of a baker at Chiswick, had a N. B. She is quite easy as to fortune, and will be very great effect upon the spirits of Foote, who as well contented with a partner of 1,000l. per had a very warm friendship for him; being a le-annum, as with a larger sum.

gatee, as well as appointed by the will of the deceased one of the bearers, he attended the corpse to the family vault at Chiswick, and there very sincerely paid a plentiful tribute of tears to his memory. On his return to town, by way of alleviating his grief, he called in at the Bedford-coffee-house; when Harry Woodward coming up to him, asked him if he had not been paying the last compliment to his friend Holland? Yes, poor

fellow," says Foote, almost weeping at the same time, "I have just seen him shoved into the family

oven."

THE DECANTER.

O thou, that high thy head dost bear,
With round smooth neck, and single ear,
With well-turn'd narrow mouth, from whence
Flow streams of noblest eloquence;
'Tis thou that first the bard divine,
Sacred to Phabus, and the nine,

That mirth and soft delight can'st move,
Sacred to Venus, and to love:
Yet, spite of all thy virtues rare,
Thou'rt not a boon-companion fair;
Thou'rt full of wine, when thirsty I;
And when I'm drunk, then thou art dry.

MATRIMONIAL ADVERTISEMENT. Confined in a certain street, the north-end of the city, up three pair of stairs backwards, by the cruelty of a most unnatural mother, and the indolence of a father, who doth not want for sense, but spirit to wear the breeches, a young girl, turned of one-and-twenty, not very tall, but thought to be too much so by her mother, who still keeps her in flat-heeled shoes. The young lady cannot boast of as much beauty as her mamma, but she has the advantage of her in an easy temper, and would be quiet if she would let her. She would be much obliged to any gentleman who could take pity on

VULGAR NATURES. Tender-handed stroke a nettle, And it stings you for your pains; Grasp it, like a man of mettle,

And it soft as silk remains. 'Tis the same with vulgar natures, Use them kindly, they rebel; But be rough as nutmeg graters, And the rogues obey you well.

FIGHTING AND PAINTING.

"But

When Hayman was painting the pictures of the British heroes for the Rotunda at Vauxhall, the Marquis of Granby paid him a visit at his house in St. Martin's-lane, and told him he came at the request of his friend Tyers, the proprietor of Vauxhall Gardens, to sit for his portrait. Frank," said the Marquis, " before I sit to you I insist on having a set-to with you." Hayman, not understanding him, and appearing much surprised at the oddity of the declaration, the Marquis exclaimed: "I have been told you were one of the best boxers of the school of Broughton, and I am not altogether deficient in the pugilistic art; but, since I have been in Germany, I have got a little out of practice, therefore I will have a fair trial of strength and skill." Hayman pleaded his age and gout as insuperable obstacles. To the first position the marquis replied that there was very little difference between them; to the latter, that exercise was a specific remedy, and added, that a few rounds would cause a glow that would give animation to the canvass. At length they began, and after the exertion of much skill and strength on both sides, Hayman gave the marquis a blow on the stomach, when they both fell with a tremendous noise, which brought up the affrighted Mrs Hay man, who found them rolling over each other on the carpet, like two bears.

GEORGE II. AND GARRICK.

When George the Second went to see Garrick act Richard the Third, the only part of the play which amused or interested the king, was the Lord-Mayor of London; and when Garrick was attending the royal party from the theatre, anxious to hear the king's opinion of his own performance, all the compliment he received from the sovereign was a high eulogy upon the Lord-Mayor. do love dat Lord-Mayor," said the king, "capital Lord-Mayor-fine Lord-Mayor dat, Mr. Garrick, where you get such capital Lord-Mayor.”

COQUETRY,

* I

A lady being asked what was the difference between a coquette and a woman of gallantry, anwered, "The same that there is between a sharper and a thief."

THE BEAUTIFUL MAID.
That Bell's an angel all confess:

An angel I agree her;

That she's a devil, is prov'd by this,
She tempts all men that see her.
No wonder then our hearts we find

Subdued, do all we can,

Since heaven and hell are both combin'd
Against poor mortal man.

TYTHE GOSPEL.

A clergyman in an inland county once concluded his sermon with the following words :"Brethren, next Friday is my tythe-day, and those who bring the tythes on that day, which are my due, shall be rewarded with a good dinner; but those who do not, may depend, that on Saturday they will dine on a lawyer's letter."

LOVE'S FELONY.

To a Lady in a Court of Assize. While petty offences and felonies smart, Is there no jurisdiction for stealing a heart? You, fair one, will smile and cry, "Laws I defy you;"

Assured that no peers can be summon'd to try you But think not that paltry defence will secure ye: For the Muses and Graces will just make a jury.

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B. John Tomkins, eh! And pray, John Tomkins, what do you know about this affair ? As I was going along Cheapside

W.

B.

kins.

W.

B.

Stop, stop! not quite so fast, John Tom-
When was you going along Cheapside?
On Monday, the 26th of June.

Oh, oh! Monday, the 26th of June-And Pray, now, how came you to know that it was Monday, the 26th of June?

Ꮴ . I remember it very well.

B. You have a good memory, John Tomkins— here is the middle of November, and you pretend to remember your walking along Chicapside in the end of June.

W. Yes, sir, I remember it as if it was but yesterday.

B. And pray, now, what makes you remember it so very well?

W. I was then going to fetch a midwife. B. Stop there, if you please. Gentlemen of the jury, please to attend to this-So, John Tomkins, you, a hale, hearty man, were going to fetch a midwife. Now, auswer me directly-look this way, sir what could you possibly want with a midwife?

W. I wanted to fetch her to a neighbour's wife, who was ill a-bed.

B. A neighbour's wife! What, then, you have no wife of your own?

W. No, sir.

B. Recollect yourself, you say you have no wife of your own?

W. No, sir; I never had a wife.

B. None of your quibbles, friend; I did not ask you if you ever had a wife; I ask you if you have now a wife? and you say no.

W. Yes, sir; and I say truth.

B. Yes, sir! and no, sir! and you say truth

we shall soon find that out. And was there no-] body to fetch a midwife but you?

W. No; my neighbour lay ill himself

B. What! did he want a midwife too? (a loud laugh).

W. He lay ill of a fever; and so I went to serve him.

B. No doubt, you are a very serviceable fellow in your way. But pray, now, after you had

fetched the midwife, where did you go?

W. I went to call upon a friend-
B. Hold, what time in the day was this?
W. About seven o'clock in the evening.
B. It was quite day-light, was it not?
W. Yes, sir; it was a fine summer evening.
B. What is it always day-light in a summer
evening?

W. I believe so-(smiling).

B. No laughing, sir, if you please; this is too serious a matter for levity. What did you do when you went to call upon a friend?

W. He asked me to take a walk; and when we were walking, we heard a great noise

B. And where was this?

W. In the street.

B. Pray attend, sir,-I don't ask you whether it was in the street-I ask you what street?

W. I don't know the name of the street, but it turned down from

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W. We worked journey-work together once; and I remember him very well.

B. So! your memory returns: you can't tell the name of the street, but you know the name of the public-house, and you know the prisoner at the bar. You are a very pretty fellow! and pray what was the prisoner doing? W. When I saw him, he wasB. When you saw him! did I ask you what he was doing when you did not see him? W. I understood he had been fighting. B. Give us none of your understanding, tell

B. Now, sir, upon your oath-do you say you what you saw. don't know the name of the street?

W. No, I don't.

B. Did you never hear it?

W. He was drinking some Hollands and water.
B. Are you sure it was Hollands and water'
W. Yes; he asked me to drink with him, and

W. I may have heard it, but I can't say II just put it to my lips. remember it?

B. Do you always forget what you have heard? W. I don't know that I ever heard it; but I may have heard it, and forgot it.

B. Well, sir, perhaps we may fall upon a way to make you remember it.

W. I don't know, sir; I would tell it if I knew it.

B. Oh! to be sure you would; you are remarkably communicative. Well, you heard a noise, and I suppose you went to see it too.

B. No doubt you did, and I dare say did not take it soon from them. But now, sir, recollect you are upon oath-look at the jury, sir-upen your oath, will you aver that it was Hollands and water? W. Yes, it was.

B.

B.

What; was it not plain gin?

W. No; the landlord said it was Hollands. Oh! now we shall come to the point.-The landlord said! Do you believe every thing the landlord of the Cock and Bottle says?

W. I don't know him enough.

B. Pray what religion are you of?

W. I am a Protestant.

B. Do you believe in a future state?

W

Yes.

B. Then, what passed after you drank the Hollands and water?

W. I heard there had been a fight, and a man killed; and I said, "Oh! Robert, I hope you have not done this:" and he shook his head.

B. Shook his head; and what did you understand by that?

W. Sir!

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B. Gem'men of the jury, you'll please to attend to this; he positively swears he saw nothing of the fight. Pray, sir, how was it that you saw nothing of the fight?

W. Because it was over before I entered the house, as I said before.

B. No repetitions, friend.-Was there any fighting after you entered? W. No, all was quiet.

B. Quiet! you just now said, you heard a noise

B. I say, what did you understand by his shak--you and your precious friend. ing his head?

W. I can't tell.

B. Can't tell!-Can't you tell what a man means when he shakes his head?"

W. He said nothing.

W. Yes, we heard a noise

B. Speak up, can't you? and don't hesitate so. W. The noise was from the people crying and lamenting

B. Don't look to me—look to the jury—well,

B. Said nothing! I don't ask you what he said crying and lamenting-What did you say?

W. What did I say?

B. Don't repeat my words, fellow; but come
to the point at once. Did you see the dead man?
W. Yes; he lay in the next room.
B. And how came he to be dead?

W. There had been a fight, as I said before

B. I don't want you to repeat what you said before.

W. There had been a fight between him and the

B. Speak up his lordship don't hear youcan't you raise your voice?

W. There had been a fight between him and the prisoner

B. Stop there-Pray, sir, wher did this fight begin?

W. I can't tell exactly; it might be an hour before. The man was quite dead.

B. And so he might, if the fight had been a month before; that was not what I asked you. Did you see the fight?

W. No-it was over before we came in.
B. We! what we?

W. I and my friend

W. Crying and lamenting that it happened; and all blaming the dead man,

B. Blaming the dead man! why, I should have thought him the most quiet of the whole-(another laugh)-But what did they blame him for?

W. Because he struck the prisoner several times without any cause.

B. Did you see him strike the prisoner ?
W No; but I was told that-

B. We don't ask you what you was told-What did you see?

W. I saw no more than I have told you.

B. Then why do you come here to tell us what you heard?

W I only wanted to give the reason why the company blamed the deceased.

B.

Oh! we have nothing to do with your reasons or theirs either.

W. No, sir, I don't say you have.

B. Now, sir, remember you are upon oathyou set out with fetching a midwife; I presume you now went for an undertaker?

W. No, I did not,

B. No! that is surprising; such a friendly man as you! I wonder the prisoner did not employ you.

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