Page:Joe Miller's new jest book.pdf/10

 JOE MILLER.

John Barth, the Dunkirk fisherman, rose by his courage and naval skill to the rank of commodore of a squadron in the navy of France. When he was ennobled by Louis XIV. the king said to him, John Barth, I have made you a commodore. John replied, You have done right.

The late Earl of S- kept an Irish footman, who, perhaps, was as expert in making bulls as the most learned of his countrymen. My lord having sent him one day with a present to a certain judge, the judge in return sent my lord half-a-dozen live partridges with a letter: the partridges fluttering in the basket upon Teague's back, as he was carrying them home, he set down the basket, and opened the lid of it to quiet then, whereupon they all flew away. Oh, the devil burn you, said he, I am glad you are gone. But when he came home, and my lord had read the letter, well, Teague, said any lord, I find there are half-a-dozen partridges in the letter. Arrah now, dear sir, said Teague, I am glad you have found them in the letter, for they are all lost out of the basket.

Gentlemen and ladies, said the facetious Beau Nash, the then master of the ceremonies for Bath, introducing a most lovely woman in the ballroom, this is Mrs. Hobson. I have often heard of Hobson's choice, but never had the pleasure to view it until now, and you must coincide with me that it reflects great credit on his taste.

I consequence of a wager, a letter was some years since put into a country post-office, and was delivered by the postman. The direction, according to the terms of the wager, consisted of these lines from Pope :- Where London's column, pointing to the skies, Like a tall bully lifts its head and lies, There dwelt a citizen of sober fame, A plain good man, and Balaam was his name. This letter came safe to Mr. Balaam, who was then a fishmonger near the monument.

A crooked gentleman, on his arrival at Bath, was asked by another, what place he had travelled from? I came straight from London, replied he. Did you so said the other, then you must have been terribly warped by the way.

An obscure physician, quarrelling with a neighbour, swore, in a great rage, that some time or other he would be the death of him. No, doctor, replied the other, for I shall never send for you.

A beggar, in Dublin, had been a long time besieging an old gouty, testy, limping gentleman, who refused his mite with irritability; on which the medicant said, Ah, please your honour's honour, I wish your heart was as tender as your toes.