Quips and Quiddities Part 12

Juliet was a fool to kill herself. In three months she'd have married again, and been glad to be quit of Romeo.

CHARLES BUXTON, _Notes of Thought_.

A cornet waltzes, but a colonel weds.

ALFRED AUSTIN, _The Season_.

In the days when Pam retained the wheel, We knew the men with whom we had to deal; Then sucking statesmen seldom failed in seeing The final cause and import of their being.

They dressed; they drove a drag; nor sought to s.h.i.+rk Their portion of the matrimonial work.

They flocked to rout and drum by tens and twelves; Danced every dance, and left their cards themselves, While some obliging senatorial f.a.g Slipped their pet.i.tions in the Speaker's bag.

_Lady Matilda_, in G. O. TREVELYAN's _Ladies in Parliament_.

Monk Lewis was a great favourite at Oatlands.

One day after dinner, as the d.u.c.h.ess was leaving the room, she whispered something in Lewis's ear. He was much affected, his eyes filling with tears.

We asked him what was the matter. "Oh," replied Lewis, "the d.u.c.h.ess spoke so _very_ kindly to me!"

"My dear fellow," said Colonel Armstrong, "pray don't cry; I dare say she didn't mean it."

ROGERS, _Table Talk_.

Sweet is revenge--especially to women.

LORD BYRON, _Don Juan_.

A plain leg of mutton, my Lucy, I prithee get ready at three; Have it smoking and tender and juicy, And what better meat can there be?

And when it has feasted the master, 'Twill amply suffice for the maid; Meanwhile, I will smoke my canaster, And tipple my ale in the shade.

W. M. THACKERAY.

L'amour est comme les maladies epidemiques; plus on les craint, plus on y est expose.

CHAMFORT, _Maximes_.

_MARRY_ (_AND_ DON'T) _COME UP_.

A fellow that's single, a fine fellow's he; But a fellow that's married's a _felo de se_.

s.h.i.+RLEY BROOKS, _Wit and Humour_.

A brother actor, who had not exactly "taken the house by storm" at his first appearance in London, very stupidly asked Compton: "Was my acting good?" "Well," was the reply, delivered in his inimitable style, "hum! ha! _Good_ is not the word!"

H. HOWE, in _Memoir of Henry Compton_.

So when two dogs are fighting in the streets, When a third dog one of the two dogs meets, With angry tooth he bites him to the bone, And this dog smarts for what that dog has done.

FIELDING, _Tom Thumb_.

I recollect a humorous M.P. pointing out to me a retired West Indian judge not very remarkable for sagacity on the bench. There was a ball at Government House, and the judge began to criticise the dancing of a witty member of the Indian bar.

"Ah, my friend, you are a bad waltzer!" "Ah, but you are a bad judge."

MARK BOYD, _Reminiscences_.

_Mrs. Cripps_: Things are seldom what they seem: Skim milk masquerades as cream; Highlows pa.s.s as patent leathers; Jackdaws strut in peac.o.c.ks' feathers.

_Captain_: Very true, So they do.

_Mrs. Cripps_: Black sheep dwell in every fold; All that glitters is not gold; Storks turn out to be but logs; Bulls are but inflated frogs.

_Captain_: So they be, Frequentlee.

W. S. GILBERT, _H.M.S. Pinafore_.

A friend meeting Sir George Rose one day in Lincoln's Inn Fields, with his left eye greatly swollen and inflamed, remonstrated with him, adding that he was surprised Lady Rose should have let him go out of doors in such a condition. "Ah," replied Sir George, "I am out _jure mariti_" (my right eye).

_Macmillan's Magazine._

It is no comfort to the _short_ To know you cannot love _at all_!

ROBERT REECE, in _Comic Poets_.

"Edwin and Morcar, the Earls of Mercia and Northumbria, declared for him; and even Stigand, the patriotic Archbishop of Canterbury, found it advisable----"

"Found _what?_" said the Duck.

"Found _it_," the Mouse replied, rather crossly; "of course you know what 'it' means."

"I know what 'it' means well enough, when _I_ find a thing," said the Duck; "it's generally a frog or a worm.

The question is, what did the archbishop find?"

LEWIS CARROLL, _Alice in Wonderland_.

I've read in many a novel, that, unless they've souls that grovel, Folks _prefer_, in fact, a hovel to your dreary marble halls.

C. S. CALVERLEY, _Fly Leaves_.