Part 19 (1/2)

My dress, you'll aver, is Economy's own, Designed with most exquisite taste; From zone unto hem, and from tucker to zone, You can't find a vestige of _waist_!

J. ASHBY STERRY, in _English Epigrams_.

Lord Palmerston, during his last attack of gout, exclaimed, playfully, ”_Die_, my dear doctor! That's the _last_ thing I think of doing.”

J. C. JEAFFRESON, _About Lawyers_.

_ON POVERTY._

He who in his pocket has no money Should, in his mouth, be never without honey.

_Epigrams in Distich._

Tavern--a house kept for those who are not housekeepers.

HORACE SMITH, _The Tin Trumpet_.

When the breakfast is spread, When the topers are mellow, When the foam of the bride-cake is white, and the fierce orange-blossoms are yellow.

LEWIS CARROLL, _Phantasmagoria_.

On [one] occasion, at a concert, a very indifferent tenor, who sang repeatedly out of tune, was indiscreet enough to express his regret to Rossini that he should have heard him for the first time in that room, as, he complained, ”Le plafond est si sourd.”

Rossini raised his eyes to the abused ceiling, and simply e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, ”Heureux plafond!”

J. R. PLANCHe, _Recollections_.

If, sick of home and luxuries, You want a new sensation, And sigh for the unwonted ease Of _un_accommodation,-- If you would taste, as amateur, And vagabond beginner, The painful pleasures of the poor-- Get up a picnic dinner.

HORACE SMITH, _The Tin Trumpet_.

A country rector, coming up to preach at Oxford in his turn, complained to Dr. Routh, the venerable Princ.i.p.al of Maudlin, that the remuneration was very inadequate, considering the travelling expenses and the labour necessary for the composition of the discourse. ”How much did they give you?” inquired Dr. Routh. ”Only five pounds,”

was the reply. ”Only five pounds?” repeated the doctor; ”why, I would not have preached that sermon for fifty!”

_Life of Rev. W. Harness._

Dey vented to de Voman's Righds, Vere laties all agrees, De gals should pe de voters, And deir beaux all de votees.

”For efery man dat nefer vorks, Von frau should vranchised pe: Dat ish de vay I solf dis ding,”

Said Breitmann, said he.

C. G. LELAND, _Breitmann Ballads_.