begged him to tell her, for she had other irons in the fire, and in case of its not being likely to succeed, she could bring out something else.
"Then," said the Doctor, after having turned over a few of the leaves, "I advise you, madam, to put it where your other irons are."
Lengthening His Name by an Ell.
It being proved, on a trial at Guildhall, that a man's name was really Inch, who pretended that it was Linch.
"I see," said the Judge, "the old proverb is verified in this man, who, being allowed an Inch, has taken an L."
Prophecy Fulfilled.
One coming into a cathedral, where the choir consisted of very bad voices, said that the prophecy of Amos was fulfilled: "And the songs of the temple shall be howlings."
Politely Said; but—Left Unsaid—Still More Polite.
Stevens (who died grave-digger of Clerkenwell, in 1768, at the age of ninety) was once on an examination before one of the courts in Westminster Hall, relative to some parochial affairs, when, being asked who he was, he replied, "I am gravedigger of the parish of St James, Clerkenwell, at your honours' service."
Giving a Good Account of His Stewardship.
"I cannot conceive," said one English nobleman to another, "how it is that you manage. I am convinced you are not of a temper to spend more than your income, and yet though your estate is less than mine, I could not afford to live at the rate you do."
"My lord," said the other, "I have a place."
"A place! You amaze me. I never heard of it till now. Pray what place?"
"I am my own Steward."
The Sweep Turning the Tables on the Parson.
A dignified clergyman, going to his living to spend the summer, met near his house a comical old chimney-sweeper with whom he used to chat.
"So, John," said the Doctor, "whence come you?"
"From your house, sir, where this morning I swept all your chimneys."
