The Punster's Pocket-book

EXAMPLES IN PUNNING,

The seeds of punning are in the minds of all men."

Among the few highly favoured individuals who were included in the select evening parties of his present Majesty, George the Fourth, while at the Pavilion, Brighton, was the facetious Reverend J. Wright. On one occasion the king suggested to his brother, the Duke of York, some intention he had of doing a particular act, to which the duke dissented, and his Majesty referred to the D.D. on which the reverend jocularly observed, "The king can do no wrong." Then, said his Majesty, "Fred. I shall pursue my object, for you hear I have 'Wright Divine' on my side."

Sir George C., better known as Col. C., was said to have had an intrigue with a Mrs. Kitchen. When the king was told of it, he said, "It was very natural that a Cooke should be fond of Kitchen stuff, but if he meddles with the Coles he will get out of the frying-pan into the fire." The Coles were cousins to the lady.

Sir George Hill, the vice-treasurer of Ireland, and a near relative to the Londonderry family, was among the visitors at the Pavilion. Dr. Tierney remarked, that Sir George was getting old and feeble – "If I mistake not," replied the king, "he is going down hill very rapidly."

"Hume and Croker had a sharp contest last night," said the Earl of Liverpool to his Majesty, "but it ended in smoke." "I don't wonder at that," replied the monarch; "The Fire of Croker was sure to smoke like Irish turf beneath the weight of Scotch Hume-i-dity."

Sir Edmund Nagle said he wondered that the king of France did not feel offended at the squibs let off against him in the English newspapers. "Pshaw!" said the king, "he would be a fool indeed to be frightened at a squib in London, when at Paris he is sitting on a barrel of gunpowder."

In an application to his Lordship for an injunction to restrain the proprietors of the "Gazette of Fashion" from selling the song of "We're a' Noddin," the Chancellor perceiving the trifling nature of the cause, after hearing the defendant, observed, "I will dismiss both parties, by granting an injunction against Cease your Funning."

On a recent occasion, having taken his seat in the Admiralty Court, inquired separately of the advocates, if they had any motion to move; and being answered in the negative, the judge very good humouredly replied, "Then, gentlemen, the best thing we can do will be to move ourselves."

As the Earl Bathurst and George Canning were walking along Pall Mall, the Earl struck his foot, by accident, against a small pail, (which some careless servant had left at the door), and turned it over; "Why, your lordship has kicked the bucket," said the facetious orator; "No, not so bad as that, George," replied the witty earl, "I've only turned a little pale (i. e. pail)."

Few persons ever enjoyed a greater facility of punning upon the ancient languages than his lordship. For instance, on one of the articles of his breakfast apparatus, Lord E. had inscribed Tu doces, literally Thou – Tea – Chest.

"Your Grace speaks without reason, and too much in a passion," said a Spanish brunette to whom he had made a proposal, and was pressing it somewhat close. "Ah! my dear little angel," said the great captain, "reason has nothing to do with love; and passion is very desirable when we are on the point of entering into immediate action."

A noble lord who was aide-de-camp to the Duke of Wellington, visited the Duke early on the morning of the battle of Salamanca, and perceiving him lying on a very small camp bedstead, observed that his Grace "had not room to turn himself." The Duke immediately replied, "When you have lived as long as I have, you will know that when a man thinks of turning in his bed, it is time he should turn out of it."

Being told that a great public defaulter had married his kept-mistress, observed, "That fellow is always robbing the public."

When the Marquis of Hertford opened his splendid hotel in Piccadilly, Mrs. Coutts was one of the visitors present – much to the annoyance of certain of our fair nobility. In reply to an observation of hers, upon the splendour and magnificence of the furniture and decorations, Rogers archly remarked, that, "besides splendour, there was so much good taste in the ornaments and society– every thing in the rooms was so chaste and delicate."

The beautiful Lady Hamilton having at her table given "Mr. Abraham Goldsmidt" as a toast, and Lord Nelson only half filling his glass, she cried, "Come, come, my Lord, you must not sham Abraham."

A friend consoling with the comedian during a severe attack of the gout, observed, that the disease prolonged life, and added, "Any body might take a lease of yours." "Then it must be," quoth Jack writhing with pain, "at a rack rent."

Jack Bannister, praising the hospitalities of the Irish, after his return from a trip to the sister kingdom, was asked if he had ever been at Cork? "No," replied the wit, "but I have seen a great many drawings of it."

Luttrell and Sam Rogers met together at the Chinese Saloon the other day. "This must be a famous speculation," said Sam; "I think the proprietor of the Anatomie Vivante should take his motto from my favourite epistle in Horace —

"Why," said Luttrell, "I think the man a humbug; you'll find plenty of living skeletons in our hospitals – so I think a better motto may be found for him in the same epistle, which you have quoted so often —

C.J. Fox, and Mr. Hare, his friend, both much incommoded by duns, were together in a house, when seeing some very shabby men about the door, they were afraid they were bailiffs in search of them. Not knowing which was in danger, and wishing to ascertain it, Fox opened the window, and calling to them, said, "Pray, gentlemen, are you Fox-hunting, or Hare-hunting?"

The witty Lord Ross having spent all his money in London, set out for Ireland in order to recruit his purse. On his way he happened to meet with Sir Murrough O'Brien, driving for the capital in a lofty phaeton, with six fine dun-coloured horses. "Sir Murrough," exclaimed his Lordship, "what a contrast between you and me! I have left my duns behind me; you are driving your duns before you.

Early one morning, the Doctor passing by the end of the Old Bailey, observed a great crowd collected, and upon inquiring of Boswell what it meant, was informed that one Vowel was going to be hanged for forgery. "Well," replied the Doctor, "it is very clear, Bozzy, that it is neither U nor I."

A pert young fellow who had made some abortive attempts as an author, and notwithstanding the shallowness of his pretensions, was on excellent terms with himself, had long been labouring for an opportunity of being introduced to the Doctor, and at length succeeded in obtaining an invitation to Mr. Thrale's. Having taken proper means to be frequently accosted by his name, which, in his own fond imagination, was "fama super æthera notum," he sat for some time in expectation of being accosted by the Lexicographer. Finding, however, that his hopes were vain, he at length ventured to break the ice. Approaching the Doctor with a smile of self-sufficiency, "My name, Doctor Johnson," said he, "is – ; you have probably heard of me as being of some celebrity in the literary world." "Yes, I have indeed," was the sarcastic reply he received, "of very unfortunate celebrity."

The Doctor used to say, that a man's happiness was secure in proportion to the small number of his wants; and he added, that, all his life, he had endeavoured to prevent the multiplication of them in himself. A Mr. Ketch, on hearing this, said to him, "Then, Doctor, your secret of happiness is, to cut down your wants." "Suspend your puns, Mr. Ketch," said the Doctor, "and I will drop you the hint: My secret is, not to let them grow up."

George Colman being once asked if he were acquainted with Theodore Hook, replied, "Oh yes; Hook and I (eye) are old associates."

"We shall jump into summer all at once," said a friend to James Smith, one very fine day in the early part of the year. "Stop," said the punster, "if it is leap year, you must take a good spring first."

Shield the composer, on the occasion of Sir George Smart being knighted, said, "It must have been on the merit of his score19, and not on the score of his merit."

As William Spencer was contemplating the caricatures at Fores's one day, somebody pointed out to him Cruickshanks's design of the "Ostend packet in a squall;" when the wit, without at all sympathizing with the nausea visible on some of the faces represented in the print, exclaimed,

The amiable Mrs. W. always insists that her friends who take grog, should mix equal quantities of spirits and water, though she never observes the rule for herself. Reynolds having once made a glass under her directions, was asked by the lady – "Pray, Sir, is it —As You Like It?" – "No, Madam," replied the dramatist, "it is —Measure for Measure."

The first time that Henderson, the player, rehearsed a part at Drury Lane, George Garrick came into the boxes, saying as he entered, "I only come as a spectator." Soon after he made some objection to Henderson's playing, when the young actor retorted – "Sir, I thought you were only to be a Spectator; instead of that you are turning Tatler." "Never mind him, Sir," said David Garrick, "never mind him, let him be what he will, I'll be the Guardian."

The late Mr. A. Cherry, comedian, was written to some years since, with an offer for a good engagement from a manager, who, on a former occasion, had not behaved altogether well to him. Cherry sent him word, that he had been bit by him once, and he was resolved, that he should not make two bites of A. Cherry.

Mr. Jekyll being told the other day, that Mr. Raine, the barrister, was engaged as the opposing counsel for a Mr. Hay, inquired, "If Raine was ever known to do any good to Hay?"

Ralph Wewitzer, ordering a box of candles, said he hoped they would be better than the last. The chandler said he was very sorry to hear them complained of, as they were as good as he could make. "Why," says Ralph, "they were very well till about half burnt down, but after that they would not burn any longer."

Mr. Fox supped one evening with Edmund Burke, at the Thatched House, where they were served with dishes more elegant than substantial. Charles's appetite being rather keen, he was far from relishing the kickshaws that were set before him, and addressing his companion – "These dishes, Burke," said he, "are admirably calculated for your palate – they are both sublime and beautiful."

Horne Tooke, author of the Epea Pteroenta, was remarkable for the readiness of his repartees in conversation. He once received an invitation to a dinner party to meet the celebrated Dr. Parr. "What!" said Horne Tooke, "go to meet a country schoolmaster, a mere man of Greek and Latin scraps! that will never do." Some time after this, he met Dr. Parr in the street, and addressed him with, "Ah! my dear Parr, is it you? how gratified I am to see you!" "What, me?" replied Parr, "a mere country schoolmaster, a man of Greek and Latin scraps?" "Oh my good friend," rejoined Horne Tooke immediately, "those who told you that never understood me; when I spoke of the scraps I meant the tit-bits."

During Lord Westmoreland's administration, when a number of new corps were raised in Ireland (and given as jobs and political favours), it was observed, that, when inspected there, the establishment of each regiment was nominally reported to be complete at embarkation for England, but when landed at the other side, many of them had not a quarter of their numbers. "No wonder," said Mr. Curran, "for after being mustered, they are afraid of being peppered, and off they fly, not wishing to pay for the roast."

A gentleman being severely cross-examined by Mr. Dunning, who asked him repeatedly if he did not live within the verge of the court, at length answered that he did. "And pray, sir," said Dunning, "why did you take up your residence in that place?" – "In order to avoid the impertinence of dunning," answered the witness.

On a motion to dissolve the injunction obtained against that useful work the Lancet, the Lord Chancellor sent it to the Vice, and "hoped there would be no more bleeding," to which Mr. Hart replied, not much, as there was only one operator retained by each side. Ay, but, said his lordship, they may stick to their patient like a Leach.

One wintry day, the Prince of Wales went into the Thatched House Tavern, and ordered a steak: "But (said his Royal Highness), I am devilish cold, bring me a glass of hot brandy and water." He swallowed it, another, and another. "Now, (said he) I am comfortable, bring my steak." On which Mr. Sheridan took out his pencil, and wrote the following impromptu: —

Charles meeting a thief-taker with a man in his custody, and asking his offence, was told he had stolen a bridle. "Then (said Charles) he wanted to touch the bit."

That very sober pious personage, Mr. Wilberforce, reproved his friend Sheridan thus: "My good Sir, (said he) you have drunk a little too much." "Have I? (hiccupped the other) and you, my good Sir, have drunk much too little."

The late Caleb Whitfoord, seeing a lady knotting fringe for a petticoat, asked her, what she was doing? "Knotting, Sir, (replied she;) pray Mr. Whitfoord, can you knot?" He answered, "I can-not."

The judge told an old man with a long beard, who was being examined as a witness, that he "supposed he had a conscience as long as his beard." If, replied the old man, we were all to be judged of by that rule, your lordship would be deemed a most unconscionable judge20.

"Sic sine Morte Mori," was given by some wag as a toast, when Lord Chesterfield and Lord Tyrawley were both present, at a very advanced age, when Lord Chesterfield said, "Tyrawley and I have been dead these two years; but we don't choose to have it known."

A German baron at a gaming-house, being detected in an odd trick, one of the players fairly threw him out of the one pair of stairs window. On this outrage he took the advice of Foote, who told him "never play so high again."

Felix M'Carthy passing through Clement's Inn, and receiving abuse from some impudent clerks, was advised to complain to the Principal, which he did thus: "I have been abused here by some of the rascals of this inn, and I come to acquaint you of it, as I understand you are the Principal."

Mr. Fox, in the course of a speech, said, "If any thing on my part, or on the part of those with whom I acted, was an obstruction to peace, I could not lie on my pillow with ease." George Tierney (then in administration) whispered to his neighbour, "If he could not lie on his pillow with ease, he can lie in this house with ease."

Lee Lewis shooting in a field, the proprietor attacked him: "I allow no person (said he) to kill game on my manor but myself; and I'll shoot you, if I find you here again." "What! (said the comedian) do you mean to make game of me?"

The late Caleb Whitfoord, finding his nephew, Charles Smith, playing the violin, the following bits took place:

W. I fear, Charles, you lose a great deal of time with this fiddling.

S. Sir, I endeavour to keep time.

W. You mean rather to kill time.

S. No, I only beat time.

When Kemble was rehearsing the romance sung by Richard Cœur de Lion, Shaw, the leader of the band, called out from the orchestra, "Mr. Kemble, my dear Mr. Kemble, you are murdering time." Kemble, calmly and coolly taking a pinch of snuff, said, "My dear Sir, it is better for me to murder Time at once than be continually beating him as you do."

Sheridan complained that Congreve's "Love for Love," had been so much altered and modified to suit the delicate ears of modern mawkishness, that it was quite spoiled. It is now (said he) like modern marriages, with very little of "Love for Love" in it. "His plays," said the wit, "are, I own, somewhat licentious, but it is barbarous to mangle them: they are like horses; when you deprive them of their vice, they lose their vigour."

An auctioneer having turned publican, was soon after thrown into the King's Bench; on which the following paragraph appeared in the Morning Post: "Mr. A., who lately quitted the pulpit for the bar, has been promoted to the bench."

Became a general toast in Ireland after the Union, by which he lost his place, or, as he once said, "his bread and butter." When lamenting his loss, he was told, "Ah! but it's amply made up to you in toast."

Mr. Twiss being one evening in the boxes of Covent Garden theatre, to see Macbeth: when the hero questions the witches what they are doing, they answer, "a deed without a name." Our counsellor, whose attention was at that moment directed more to Coke upon Littleton than Shakspeare, catching, however, the actor's words, repeated, "A deed without a name! why, 'tis void."

The comedian meeting a young friend, observed how well he looked. "Ay, (says the other) I have a rare good appetite, and I take care that it be well satisfied; in the first place, every morning I eat a great deal to breakfast." "Then (observes the former) I presume you breakfast in a timber-yard."

A few years ago, it will be remembered, that Mr. John Bannister nearly lost his arm by the bursting of a fowling-piece. Shortly after he observed to a friend, "I may be an actor, but I will not attempt to be a Shooter."

The master of the Wrestler's Inn, at Yarmouth, having solicited Lord Nelson to permit him to put up his arms, and change the name of the inn to The Nelson Hotel; his lordship returned for answer, that he was perfectly welcome to his name, but he must be sensible that he had no arms to spare.

A severe Irish judge, being at dinner among an assemblage of lawyers, Mr. Curran asked his lordship, if he should have the pleasure of helping him to a slice of pickled tongue which stood before him. "If it were hung (said his lordship), I would try it." "If you were to try it (replied Curran), it would be sure to be hung."

On some one proposing to send an Irish barrister to "Coventry" for refusing to fight a duel, "Sure," said the wit, "that is carrying the joke a little too far."

While a counsellor was pleading at the Irish bar, a louse unluckily peeped from under his wig. Curran, who sat next to him, whispered what he saw. "You joke," said the barrister. "If (replied Mr. Curran) you have many such jokes in your head, the sooner you crack them the better."

MacNally was very lame, and when walking, he had an unfortunate limp. At the time of the Rebellion he was seized with a military ardour, and when the different volunteer corps were forming in Dublin, that of the lawyers was organized. Meeting with Curran, MacNally said, "My dear friend, these are not times for a man to be idle; I am determined to enter the Lawyers' Corps, and follow the camp." "You follow the camp, my little limb of the law!" said the wit, "tut, tut, renounce the idea; you never can be a disciplinarian." "And why not, Mr. Curran?" said MacNally. "For this reason," said Curran, "the moment you were ordered to march you would halt."

A gentleman told Lord North, that from a variety of losses, he had found himself compelled to reduce his establishment. "And what (said his lordship) have you done with the fine mare you used to ride?" "I have sold her." "Then you have not attended to Horace's maxim:

Manners Earl of Rutland meeting Sir Thomas More, shortly after their mutual preferment, and thinking he assumed rather a haughty carriage, observed, "Honores mutant Mores." "No, my lord (said Sir Thomas), the pun will be much better in English, Honors change Manners."

Lord Byron observed to Rogers, that punning was the lowest species of wit. "True (said the other), it is the foundation."

Sir William Dawes, archbishop of York, delighted in a good pun. His clergy dining with him the first time after the decease of his lady, he said he feared the company would not find things in so good order as they were in the time of poor Mary, adding with a sigh, "Ah! she was indeed Mare Pacificum." A curate, who pretty well knew the truth of the matter, got himself completely into favour by observing, "Ay, my lord, but she was first Mare Mortuum."

At a dinner of wits, a dish of pease was brought in, become almost grey with age. "Carry these pease to Kensington!" said one of the party. "Why to Kensington?" said another. "Because it's the way to Turn'em green." Dr. Goldsmith going home in the evening with Sir Joshua Reynolds, observed, that he would have given five pounds to make so excellent a pun. "You shall have the opportunity (said the knight) on Tuesday, when you are to dine with me, and none of the same company will be present." Tuesday came, and the dinner was served up; amongst the other dishes a plate of pease of the same description. "Carry these peas to Kensington," said Goldie. "Why so?" "Because it's the way to make them green!"