to say_."--"Come along with
me, friend, and let's have a glass together; you are too good a fellow
to be here," said Pitcairn, delighted with the man's repartee.

XXII.--A WONDERFUL WOMAN.

WHEN a late Duchess of Bedford was last at Buxton, and then in her
eighty-fifth year, it was the medical farce of the day for the faculty
to resolve every complaint of whim and caprice into "a shock of the
nervous system." Her grace, after inquiring of many of her friends in
the rooms what brought them there, and being generally answered for a
nervous complaint, was asked in her turn, "What brought her to
Buxton?"--"I came only for pleasure," answered the healthy duchess;
"for, thank God, I was born before _nerves came into fashion_."

XXIII.--A WISE SON WHO KNEW HIS OWN FATHER.

SHERIDAN was very desirous that his son Tom should marry a young woman
of large fortune, but knew that Miss Callander had won his son's heart.
Sheridan, expatiating on the folly of his son, at length exclaimed,
"Tom, if you marry Caroline Callander, I'll cut you off with a
shilling!" Tom could not resist the opportunity of replying, and looking
archly at his father said, "Then, sir, you must _borrow_ it." Sheridan
was tickled at the wit, and dropped the subject.

XXIV.--A WRITTEN CHARACTER.

GEORGE III. having purchased a horse, the dealer put into his hands a
large sheet of paper, completely written over. "What's this?" said his
majesty. "The pedigree of the horse, sire, which you have just bought,"
was the answer. "Take it back, take it back," said the king, laughing;
"it will do very well for the _next horse you sell_."

XXV.--WELL MATCHED.

DR. BUSBY, whose figure was beneath the common size, was one day
accosted in a public coffee-room by an Irish baronet of colossal
stature, with, "May I pass to my seat, O Giant?" When the doctor,
politely making way, replied, "Pass, O Pigmy!"--"O, sir," said the
baronet, "my expression alluded to the _size of your intellect_."--"And
my expression, sir," said the doctor, "to the _size of yours_."

XXVI.--A PARDONABLE MISTAKE.

A BUTCHER of some eminence was lately in company with several ladies at
a game of whist, where, having lost two or three rubbers, one of the
ladies addressing him, asked, "Pray, sir, what are the stakes now?" To
which, ever mindful of his occupation, he immediately replied, "Madam,
the best rump I cannot _sell_ lower than tenpence half