going to say now?" asked Macklin.
"No, sir," said Foote, "pray, _do you_?"

DCCLI.--A ROYAL MUFF.

THE following anecdote was told with great glee at a dinner by William
IV., then Duke of Clarence: "I was riding in the Park the other day, on
the road between Teddington and Hampton-wick, when I was overtaken by a
butcher's boy, on horseback, with a tray of meat under his arm.--'Nice
pony that of yours, old gentleman,' said he.--'Pretty fair,' was my
reply.--'Mine's a good 'un too,' rejoined he; 'and I'll trot you to
Hampton-wick for a pot o' beer.' I declined the match; and the butcher's
boy, as he stuck his single spur into his horse's side, exclaimed, with
a look of contempt, 'I thought you were only a _muff_!'"

DCCLII.--A BROAD HINT.

AN eminent barrister having a case sent to him for an opinion--the case
being outrageously preposterous--replied, in answer to the question,
"Would an action lie?"--"Yes, if the witnesses would _lie_ too, but not
otherwise."

DCCLIII.--A TASTE OF MARRIAGE.

A GENTLEMAN described to Jerrold the bride of a mutual friend. "Why, he
is six foot high, and she is the shortest woman I ever saw. What taste,
eh?"

"Ay," Jerrold replied, "and only a taste!"

DCCLIV.--"THE LAST WAR."

MR. PITT, speaking in the House of Commons of the glorious war which
preceded the disastrous one in which we lost the colonies, called it
"the last war." Several members cried out, "The last war but one." He
took no notice; and soon after, repeating the mistake, he was
interrupted by a general cry of "The last war but one,--the last war but
one."--"I mean, sir," said Mr. Pitt, turning to the speaker, and raising
his sonorous voice,--"I mean, sir, the last war that Britons would wish
_to remember_." Whereupon the cry was instantly changed into an
universal cheering, long and loud.

DCCLV.--THE PHILANTHROPIST.

JERROLD hated the cant of philanthropy, and writhed whenever he was
called a philanthropist in print. On one occasion, when he found himself
so described, he exclaimed, "Zounds, it tempts a man to kill a child, to
get rid of the reputation."

DCCLVI.--TOO MUCH OF A BAD THING.

ENGLISH tourists in Ireland soon discover that the length of Irish miles
constantly recurs to their observation; eleven Irish miles being equal
to about fourteen English. A stranger one day complained of the
barbarous condition of the road in a particular district;