The Bed-Book of Happiness. Harold Begbie
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benefice she ever sold,
Nor did dispense with sins for gold,
She hardly is a se'nnight old,
And yet she is a Pope.
No king her feet did ever kiss,
Or had from her worse look than this;
Nor did she ever hope
To saint one with a rope,
And yet she is a Pope.
A female Pope you'll say, a second Joan!
No, sure she is Pope Innocent, or none!
A GOOD PARAPHRASE
[Sidenote: Percy Anecdotes]
On the eve of a battle an officer came to ask permission of the Maréchal de Toiras to go and see his father, who was on his death-bed. "Go," said the general, "you honour your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land."
IRISH PRIEST
[Sidenote: Percy Anecdotes]
An Irish peasant complained to the Catholic priest of his parish that some person had stolen his best pig, and supplicated his reverence to help him to the discovery of the thief. The priest promised his best endeavours; and, his inquiries soon leading him to a correct enough guess as to the offender, he took the following amusing method of bringing the matter home to him. Next Sunday, after the service of the day, he called out with a loud voice, fixing his eyes on the suspected individual, "Who stole Pat Doolan's pig?" There was a long pause, and no answer; he did not expect that there would be any; and descended from the pulpit without saying a word more. A second Sunday arriving without the pig being restored in the interval, his reverence, again looking steadfastly at the stubborn purloiner and throwing a deep note of anger into the tone of his voice, repeated the question. "Who stole Pat Doolan's pig? I say, who stole poor Pat Doolan's pig?" Still there was no answer, and the question was left as before, to work its effect in secret on the conscience of the guilty individual. The hardihood of the offender, however, exceeded all the honest priest's calculations. A third Sunday arrived, and Pat Doolan was still without his pig. Some stronger measure now became necessary. After service was performed his reverence, dropping the question of "Who stole Pat Doolan's pig?" but still without directly accusing any one of the theft, reproachfully exclaimed, "Jimmie Doran! Jimmie Doran! you trate me with contimpt." Jimmie Doran hung down his head, and next morning the pig was found at the door of Pat Doolan's cabin.
A DIGRESSION
[Sidenote: Percy Anecdotes]
The celebrated Henderson, the actor, was seldom known to be in a passion. When at Oxford, he was one day debating with a fellow student, who, not keeping his temper, threw a glass of wine in his face. Mr. Henderson took out his handkerchief, wiped his face, and coolly said, "That, sir, was a digression; now for the argument."
FORTUNE-TELLER
[Sidenote: Percy Anecdotes]
A fortune-teller was arrested at his theatre of divination, al fresco, at the corner of the rue de Bussy in Paris, and carried before the tribunal of correctional police. "You know to read the future?" said the president, a man of great wit, but too fond of a joke for a magistrate. "In this case," said the judge, "you know the judgment we intend to pronounce." "Certainly." "Well, what will happen to you?" "Nothing." "You are sure of it?" "You will acquit me." "Acquit you!" "There is no doubt of it." "Why?" "Because, sir, if it had been your intention to condemn me, you would not have added irony to misfortune." The president, disconcerted, turned to his brother judges, and the sorcerer was acquitted.
GASCONADES
[Sidenote: Percy Anecdotes]
A Gascon, passing one night through a churchyard, thought he saw a spectre drawing forth his sword. He called out aloud, "Aha! do you want to be killed a second time? I am your man."
Another hero of the same country used to say that he could not look into a mirror without being afraid of himself.
When Robespierre had been guillotined at Paris, a Gascon officer in the
French army thus expressed the dread he had entertained of that tyrant:
"As often as the name of Robespierre was mentioned to me, I used to take
off my hat, in order to see if my head was in it."
TRIBUTE TO BEAUTY
[Sidenote: Percy Anecdotes]
As the late beautiful Duchess of Devonshire was one day stepping out of her carriage, a dustman, who was accidentally standing by, and was about to regale himself with his accustomed whiff of tobacco, caught a glance of her countenance, and instantly exclaimed, "Love and bless you, my lady, let me light my pipe in your eyes!" It is said the duchess was so delighted with this compliment that she frequently afterwards checked the strain of adulation, which was so constantly offered to her charms, by saying, "Oh! after the dustman's compliment, all others are insipid."
BEGGING QUARTER
[Sidenote: Percy Anecdotes]
A French regiment at the battle of Spires had orders to give no quarter.
A German officer, being taken, begged his life. The Frenchman replied,
"Sir, you may ask me for any other favour; but, as for your life, it is
impossible for me to grant it."
GASCON REPROVED
[Sidenote: Percy Anecdotes]
A descendant of a family in Gascony, celebrated for its flow of language and love of talking, and not for any deeds of glory, descanted before a numerous company upon the well-known bravery of his ancestors and relations. He then, to show that the race had not degenerated, modestly launched into a faithful description of his own battles, duels, and successes. He was once, he said, a passenger on board a French frigate during the war, and, falling in with an English squadron composed of three seventy-fours, fought with them for five hours, when luckily, the ship taking fire, he was blown up, with ten of his countrymen, and dropped into one of the seventy-fours, the crew of which laid down their arms and surrendered; while the two remaining men-of-war, struck with dismay at the sight of one of their ships in the possession of the enemy, crowded sails and ran away!
Such were his faithful accounts, with which he would still have continued to annoy the company, had not one of his countrymen, more enlightened, frankly acknowledged the natural propensity which leads the inhabitants of Gascony to revel in imaginary scenes, resolved to awe him into silence, and thus addressed him: "All your exploits are mere commonplace, in comparison to those which I have achieved; and I will relate a single one that surpasses all yours."
The babbler opened his ears, no doubt secretly intending to appropriate this story to himself in future time, when none of the hearers should be present, and modestly owned, that all those he had mentioned were mere children's tricks, performed without any exertion, but that he had some in store which might shine unobscured by the side of the most brilliant deeds of ancient ages.
"One evening," said the other, "as I was returning to town from the country, I had to pass through a narrow lane, well known for being infested with highwaymen. My horse was in good order, my pistols loaded, and my broadsword hung at my side; I entered the lane without any apprehension. Scarcely had I reached the middle when a loud shout behind me made me turn my head, and I saw a man with a short gun running fast towards me. I was going to face him with my horse, when two men with large cudgels in their hands, rushing from the hedge, seized the reins, and threatened me with instant death. Undaunted, I took my two pistols; but, before I had time to fire, one was knocked out of my hand, the other went off, and one of the robbers fell. I then drew my sword, and, though bruised by the blows I had received, struck with all my might, and split the head of the other in two. Freed from my danger on their side, I attempted a second time to turn my horse." Here he paused a while; and our babbler, longing to know the end of this adventure, exclaimed, "And the third!"