after M. Favor was appointed first ballet-master of the Opera (towards the close of the last century), Signor Sodorini, another performer there, came one day upon the stage, after the rehearsal, and said to him: “Allow me, my dear sir, to introduce myself to you. You are the dearest friend I have on earth. Let me thank you a thousand times for the happiness you have conferred upon me by coming amongst us. Command me in any way; for, whatever I do for you, I can never sufficiently repay you.” The ballet-master, who had never seen or heard of Sodorini before, was astounded. At last, he said, “Pray, sir, to what particular piece of good fortune may I attribute the compliments and professions with which you favour me.” “To your unparalleled ugliness, my dear sir,” replied Sodorini; “for, before your arrival, I was considered the ugliest man in Great Britain.” The ballet-master (strange to say) took this joke in good part; and the two were ever after warm friends.
MUSICAL PRIDE.
Fischer, a first rate oboe player, at Dublin, was a man of great professional pride, and had also much of the ex-professional gentleman in his composition. A nobleman once asked him to sup after the conclusion of the opera; and, although very averse to going, he at last consented, on being assured by his patron that it was only for his society and conversation, and not for his musical proficiency, that he was invited. He had not, however, been many minutes in his host’s company, when the latter approached him, and said: “I hope, Mr. Fischer, you have brought your oboe in your pocket.” “No, my lord,” said Fischer, “my oboe never sups.” So saying, he turned on his heel, and instantly left the house; nor could any persuasion ever induce him to return to it.
NEGRO WIT.
A gentleman driving on the road between Little River and Brighton, was overtaken by a negro boy on a mule, who attempted for a long while, without success, to make the animal pass the carriage. At length the boy exclaimed to his beast, “I’ll bet you one fippeny I make you to pass this time;” and, after a short pause, again said, “you bet? very well.” The boy repeated the blows with renewed vigour, and at last succeeded in making him pass; when the gentleman, who overheard the conversation between Quashee and his steed, said to him, “Well, my boy, now you have won, how are you going to make the mule pay you?” “Oh, sir,” says the negro, “me make him pay me very well; massa give me one tenpenny for buy him grass, and me only buy him a fippeny worth!”
A TRUE KING.
When Dr. Franklin applied to the King of Prussia to lend his assistance to America, “Pray, doctor,” says the veteran, “what is the object you mean to attain?”—“Liberty, sire,” replied the philosopher of Philadelphia; “liberty! that freedom which is the birthright of man.” The king, after a short pause, made this memorable and kingly answer: “I was born a prince; I am become a king; and I will not use the power which I possess to the ruin of my own trade.”
SHERIDAN AND MONK LEWIS.
Sheridan never gave Lewis any of the profits of the Castle Spectre. One day, Lewis, being in company with him, said, “Sheridan, I will make you a large bet.” Sheridan, who was always ready to make a wager (however he might find it inconvenient to pay it if lost), asked eagerly, “What bet?” “All the profits of my Castle Spectre,” replied Lewis. “I will tell you what,” said Sheridan (who never found his match at repartee), “I will make you a very small one—what it is worth.”
DR. KITCHINER.
Some people have an objection to thirteen at dinner. Dr. Kitchiner, the culinary, happened to be one of a company of that number at Dr. Henderson’s, and, on its being remarked, and pronounced unlucky, he said, “I admit that it is unlucky in one case.” “What case is that?” “When there is only dinner for twelve.”
NAME RECOLLECTED.
At a dinner party, one day, somebody talked of a rich rector in Worcestershire, whose name he could not recollect, but who had not preached for the last twelve months, as he every Sunday requested one of the neighbouring clergy to officiate for him. “Oh!” replied a gentleman present, “though you cannot recollect his name, I can—it is England—England expects every man to do his duty.”
BON-MOT OF SIR WILLIAM CURTIS.
A coach proprietor complained to Sir William Curtis that he suspected his guard of robbing him, and asked what he should do? “Prenez-garde,” said Sir William.
BON-MOT ON A TEA-URN.
Lady S——r was complaining one morning at breakfast that the tea was very bad, and said she was quite sure the water didn’t boil; “Nay,” said she, “the urn didn’t even hiss when it was brought in.” “No,” said Sir W. E., “it was tacit-urn.”
WHERE HURT.
A gentleman who was relating an accident he had met with from a fall, was asked by a surgeon, if it was near the vertebræ that he had been hurt? “No, sir,” was the reply, “it was near the Observatory.”
PRECEDENCY IN SHAVING.
A barber having come up to poll at a Berwick election, one of the candidates, with evident marks of disappointment, asked, “What! did you not shave me this morning?” “Yes,” answered the barber, “but I have shaved Mr. —— (meaning the opposing candidate) since.”
CONSUMPTIVE APPETITE.
Doctor Thomson was called in to attend a gentleman, who persuaded himself that he was, to use a popular expression, “dying by inches.” The doctor caught the invalid at dinner, and having seen him demolish some soup, a slice of salmon, two cuts of chine of mutton, and half a partridge, inquired what other symptoms of disease he felt. “None particularly, sir,” said the invalid, “only every thing about me tends to convince me that I am consumptive.” “Your appetite is, at all events, sir,” said the doctor, and walked off.
FIREWORKS.
The fireworks for the peace of Ryswick were made by a colonel in the army, and were much admired. This gentleman one day commending Purcel’s epitaph, “He is gone to that place, where only his harmony can be exceeded.”—“Why,” said a lady present, “that epitaph will serve for you, with a very small alteration: there is nothing to do, but to change the word harmony for fireworks.”
CURIOUS FACT.
In the great catalogue of the British Museum Library many of the books are classed according to the subjects of which they treat. Against the head “Rebellion” there appears this notice (only)—“Vide Hibernia.”
A SUDDEN RECOLLECTION.
An Indian of the Abipones, an equestrian people of South America, was about to be baptized. “You will certainly go to heaven after this ceremony, when you die,” said the Jesuit who was to christen him. The Indian was content. Just as the water was on the point of being thrown, however, a doubt arose in the mind of the savage. “By this water I shall go to heaven?” said he. “As sure as there are mosquitoes in America,” answered the father. “But my friends, who will not be baptised.”—“They must go to hell: assuredly, they shall not miss; not a man of them.” “Then excuse me,” said the savage; “I am sorry to have given you this trouble; but I shall choose to go too.”
ADVANTAGE OF BUTTONS ON LUTESTRING.
Sir Baptist Hickes was telling how his gold buttons were cut off in a crowd, and he never the wiser, though the poorer. Sir Edmund Bacon asked him, if they were not strung upon lutestring? “No,” answered he. “Oh, fie,!” said
