He trotted on-arrived-sat down, Devour'd enough for six or seven, Or that the darkness jumbled the two gates, Instead of Number Two, Rode in-dismounted-left his nag, And homeward burried without more ado. Some days elapsed and no one came Of groom-like looking men, Each with a bill, which Peter they submit to; One for the six weeks hire of a bay mare, And one for six weeks keep of ditto; Together-twenty-two pounds ten! The tale got wind.-What, Peter make a blun der! There was no end of joke, and quiz, and der, Which, with the loss of cash, so mortified Of bile, and bargain'd with a quack, Who daily swore to cure him-till he died! When, as no will was found, DANGER OF SCEPTICISM. Mallet, the poet, was so fond of being thought a sceptic, that he indulged this weakness on all occasions. His wife, it is said, was a complete convert to his doctrines, and even the servants stared at their master's bold arguments, without being poisoned by their influence. One fellow, however, was determined to practise what Malle was so solicitous to propagate, and robbed his master's house Being pursued, and brought to justice, Mallet attended, and taxed him severely with ingratitude and dishonesty. Sir," said the fellow, "I have often heard you talk of the im possibility of a future state; that, after death, there was neither reward for virtue, nor punishment for vice, and this tempted me to commit the robbery."- Well! but, you rascal," replied Mallet, bad you no fear of the gallows?""Master," said the culprit, looking sternly at him, "what is it to you, if I had a mind to venture that? You had removed my greatest terror; why should I fear the less ?" THE ELEVENTH COMMANDMENT. Ireland to this country, was wrecked on some part ArchbishopUsher, when crossing the channel from of the coast of Wales. On this disastrous occasion, won-after having reached the shore, he made the best His scraped, and saved, and hoarded store Went to a man to whom some months before, He bad refused to lend a pound. THE MUNIFICENT SAINT. A devout lady offered up a prayer to St. Ignatius for the conversion of her husband; a few days after, the man died; " What a good saint is our Ignatius!" exclaimed the consolable widow, "he bestows on us more benefits than we ask for!" of his way to the house of a clergyman, who resided not far from the spot on which he was cast. Without communicating his name, or his dignified station, the archbishop introduced himself as a brother clergyman in distress, and stated the particulars of his misfortune. The Cambrian divine suspecting his unknown visitor to be an impostor, gave him no very courteous reception; and having intimated his suspicions, said, "I dare say you can't tell me how many commandments there are." -There are eleven," replied the archbishop, very meekly. "Repeat the eleventh," rejoined the other," and I will relieve you;"-" Put it in practice and you will," answered the primate. A new commandment I give unto you, that you love one another." BEN JONSON A BRICKLAYER. Ben Jonson, in the early part of his life, was a bricklayer, but was then distinguished for his wit and poetical talents. A lady of considerable humour, who had heard of him, passing him one morning while he was at work, addressed him thus "With line and rule, "In silk and scarlet Good morning, madam." CIVIC CONUNDRUM. CRITIC IN BLACK, AND THE LISPING LADY. The night was dark and stormy, nor except from the occasional glimpse of a lamp as we passed through Islington, could I form any idea of the physiognomy of my three companions; nor was it until the constant use of a snuff-box, that set the whole coach sneezing, that I discovered the person opposite me to be a Frenchman; and although we were four in the inside, as loving and as compact, aye, as potted beef, it was at least two hours before one word was spoken. In another corner of the coach was a lady with a pug-dog, which she hugged with all possible care and attention; aud opposite her was a cynical old gentleman in black, A fashionable emigrant being invited to dine who might have passed either for a poor parson, a with a city alderman, in whose hands he had lodg-rich attorney, a bishop, or a Welch judge, and ed money, was for a long time tormented with ex- seemed to have taken an oath of solemn silence the travagant encomiums on a giblet-pie, which his moment he entered the coach; this seemed to give host was most voraciously devouring. "Have great uneasiness to the Frenchman, who, by a vayou ever, mounseer," said the alderman," have riety of sighs, shrugs, hints, and peeps at the old you ever seen any thing like it ?”—“ Nothing in gentleman, tried to break the ice which had himy life," replied the other, "except your wor therto frozen up all conversation. However, he ship's wig."" Ha! ha!" exclaimed the alder- made an attempt at a thaw of words; perhaps it man, that's a good one. But pray how is my would be requisite to tell you what he meant wig like that pie."-" Pardie,' rejoined the before I tell you what he said; he meant to say Frenchman," because it has a goose's head in it." that the coach he was in had started first from town, but had suffered another to pass it, which he had thus expressed-Mister Sare, dat coach Two persons quarrelling in a public-house, one wich was fairst bye and bye is now behind very... told the other he knew what would hang him. but observing he was not attended to, he address"You are a liar," replied his antagonist," and 1ed himself particularly to the old gentleman in defy you to prove your words," when the first produced a rope, and said, "this would bang you." THE ROPE. THE TART REPLY. Says the squire to the parson, "if you were to lie In this dirt, we could make a substantial goose pie: Quoth the parson, “if you in your grave were extended, [mended,) (Which I hope won't happen till your morals are And I read the prayers, by a much better rule, The parish might call me a goose-bury fool." black, sitting opposite to him, who seemed to have taken an oath of solemn silence the moment he entered the coach-and all he could get in reply was a frown, an occasional nod, or a grunt, ugh; Ah, ah, monsieur, vat is dat ugh? Je ne comprend pas, monsieur; I don't understand dat ugh. Parlez vous Francois, monsieur, comment vous portez vous, monsieur. How you do, sair? Ugh, ugh! Are you not well, sair? c'est bien drole -c'est bien comical; ah, that gentleman shall not speak to me.-Are you not well, sair? I am THE LAUGHING PHILOSOPHER. THE MEDDLER. "Will and Hal, love their bottle." Well, Prat not very well myself, it is very warm, it is quite you have the sweetest lisp;' so I've retained my de day of de dog-and whenever it is de day of lisp, though I have lost him poor soul. You must dog, I have de bad of de head. I have not drink know, sir, so fond am I of the letter S, I have a present, mais, I must confess last night I did taught my daughter Selina to cultivate it in the drink for sixpence too much of your ponch-Ugh. same way; and I never take a servant into my However the Frenchman having heard that perse-house if she has not got an S in her name. I've verance always answered, he was now determined got a servant called Sukey, and another called to try its effect, by putting a direct question to Sophy, a cat called Frisk, and a dog called Smohim, and trusting to his politeness for an answer-lensko; so I told my daughter Selina, to repeat "dites moi, tell me, sare, are you not well;" at a little lesson after me-that was to tell Sukey to last the old gentleman was provoked to a reply, bring the scissars off the sofa, to cut Smolensko's and said, though not in the civilest tone in the tail," world, "I am remarkably well, I was very well when I left town; I am very well now, and if I should happen to be taken ill, sir, I'll let you know." Finding all attempts at conversation were ineffectual with him, he determined to try his persuasion with the softer sex: he then turned round to the lady with the pug-dog; and here he was rather more fortunate in his application—| being one of those who are called agreeable companions in a stage-coach, who would rather talk Well, Prattle, his pranks will not turn your head nonsense than not talk at all. When he said, “madam, shall I have de pleasure to talk to you," Charles, ruin'd by gambling, begs alms to subbecause dat gentleman shall not speak to me?”"Oh, yes, monsieur," with a lisp," with the greatest pleasure in life, what shall we talk about?" "Oh! madame, it is not for me to chuse-vat you please, theatrique, politique, Belle Lettre Letters talking of letters, pray what do you think of the letter S, madame?"" The letter S, sir !"-" Madame, I don't understand you.”—“ [ mean, sir, with respect to the pronunciation on it." "Pronunciation, oh! madame, I cannot pronounce it at all; it is de diable himself; it is true we have it in our language, merely pro forma at the end of our words; but there he lay wriggling and twisting about like a French horn upon pianoforte. Oh! the letter S. is le diable himself." 66 O! sir, think it is the sweetest sounding letter in the whole alphabet; you must know, sir, I always cultivate the sound of the S, for I was married to Mr. Simmer, the soap-boiler, in St. Mary Axe; he used to say, Selina, my soul, grey. sist." Well, Prattle, subscribe or withhold as you list. cern; None will lend you a doit, and you've no means to earn. Your wife's ever drunk, Prattle, that concerns you. too. I could preach thus a week, did my taste so incline, SWEARING BY PROXY. Cardinal Dubois used frequently, in searching after any thing he wanted, to swear excessively. One of his clerks told him, “Your eminence had better hire a man to swear for you, and then you will gain so much time." this DEATH BY DEGREES. A physician who attended Fontenelle, once found him drinking coffee. "My good sir," said sage descendant of Galen, "I am astonished to see you swallowing the juice of that pernicious berry! coffee is a slow poison!”—“I should think it must be slow," said Fontenelle, "for I have drunk it with great perseverance for more than forty years." EPITAPH, NEAR SHEFFIELD. Thomas Hughes, Removed from over the way. GALLANT MOURNING. The Spaniards do not often pay hyperbolical compliments; but one of their admired writers, speaking of a lady's black eyes, says, "They were in mourning for the murders she had committed." SAINT MICHAEL'S CHAIR. Merrily, merrily, rung the bells, The bells of St. Michael's tower, When Richard Penlake, and Rebecca his wife, Arriv'd at St. Michael's door. Richard Penlake was a cheerful man, Cheerful and frank and free. But he led a sad life, with Rebecca his wife, For a terrible shrew was she. Richard Penlake a scolding would take, Till patience avail'd no longer: "Now hear my prayer, St. Michael! and spare When Richard grew well, Rebecca his wife Merrily, merrily, rung the bells, The bells of St Michael's tower, When Richard Penlake, and Rebecca his wife, Arriv'd at St. Michael's door. Six marks they on the altar laid, Aud Richard knelt in prayer: Up the tower Rebecca ran, Round, and round, and round; 'Twas a giddy sight to stand a-top, And look upon the ground. "A curse on the ringers, for rocking As over the church battlements Then Richard Penlake, his crabstick would take, Merrily, merrily, rung the bells, And shew her that he was the stronger. Rebecca his wife had often wish'd To sit in St. Michael's chair For she should be the mistress then, tehanced that Richard Penlake fell sick, They thought that he would have died; Rebecca his wife made a vow for his life, As she knelt by his bed-side. And out Rebecca was thrown. Tidings to Richard Penlake were brought That his good wife was dead: "Now shall we toll, for her good soul, The great church-bell?" they said. "Toll at her burying," quoth Richard Penlake, TIMELY FEAR. Foote once went to spend his Christmas at a friend's, when the weather being very cold, and but bad fires, occasioned by a scarcity of wood, Foote was determined to make his visit as short as possible; accordingly, on the third day after be went there, he ordered his chaise, and was preparing to set out for town. A lady seeing him with his boot on in the morning, asked him what "No, hurry he was in ? and pressed him to stay. no," says Foote, "was I to stay any longer, you Why, would not let me have a leg to stand on."6 we do not drink so hard." sure," says the lady, "No," says the wit," but there is so little wood in your house, that I am afraid one of your servants may light the fires some morning with my right leg.' THE PIG. An Irishman seeing his neighbour driving an unruly pig, asked what he was going to do with it ? Faith!" replied Paddy, "I am taking it home to help the children to eat their potatoes." THE FEMALE MICROCOSM. To a Lady, who said, Man is a little World. The Lady's Answer. ́ Some are call'd codsheads-wanting brains; But blackbirds, when in pulpits zealous ; PICTURE DABBLING. P―, a picture-dealer, met S― in the street one day, and the following conversation ensuedS. You look deplorably sad, what is the matter with you? P. Oh! I am the unluckiest dog alive, I am almost ruined; I have lost fifty pounds this morning. S. How, how, man; I never knew you had so much to lose? P. Oh! it is always my luck, always unfortunate; a heavy loss, a dead loss! S. (Sympathetically.) But how happened it? P. Why, last week I bought a volume of plates at a sale for forty shillings; and as they were i the way of Lord G -'s collection, I offered them to him. He appointed to call this morning = I went; his Lord hip was engaged, and I sa down in the anti-room. I had resolved to put good five pounds profit on, and began looking over the prints, that I might see where to insist on their value, It struck me that they looked better than before, and I determined to ask ten poundfor them! Well, sir, I waited and waited till |