Page:Everybody's Book of English wit and humour (1880).djvu/88

 Swell—"Paw beggaw!"

Sweeper—"Got e'er a copper, yer honour?"

Swell—"Naw!"

Sweeper—"Paw beggaw!"

Bookbinder—"Oh, your master wants them bound, my man, do he? Well, are they to be done in Russia or Morocco?"

Rustic—"Why, stoopid, dust think if he'd wanted 'em done in Roosia that I'd ev browt 'em 'ere?"

Johnny lost his knife. After searching in one pocket and another, until he had been through all without success, he exclaimed: "Oh, dear! I wish I had another pocket, it might be in that."

"My 'pa is a preacher, an' he will go to heaven."

"Yes, an' my 'pa is a doctor, an' can kill your old 'pa."

"Did you take the note, and did you see Mr Thompson, Jock?"

"Yes, sir."

"And how was he?

"Why, he looked pretty well, but he's very blind."

"Blind! what do you mean?"

"Why, while I wur in the room he axed me wher' my hat wur, and I'm blest if it wum't on my head all the while!"

Dryden and Otway lived opposite to each other in Queen Street. Otway coming home one night from the tavern, chalked upon Dryden's door, "Here lives John Dryden; he is a wit."

Dryden knew the hand-writing, and, next day, chalked on Otway's door, "Here lives Tom Otway; he is opposite."

The Duchess of Newcastle who wrote many plays and romances, in the most extravagant taste of the reign of Charles II., asked