"The tender infant, meek and mild, Fell down upon the stone; The nurse took up the squealing child, But still the child squealed on." A famous ballad also, beginning 'Rio verde, Rio verde,' when I commended the translation of it, he said he could do it better himself--as thus: "Glassy water, glassy water, Down whose current clear and strong, Chiefs confused in mutual slaughter, Moor and Christian roll along." "But, sir," said I, "this is not ridiculous at all." "Why, no," replied he, "why should I always write ridiculously? Perhaps because I made these verses to imitate such a one," naming him: "'Hermit hoar, in solemn cell Wearing out life's evening grey; Strike thy bosom, sage! and tell What is bliss, and which the way?' "Thus I spoke, and speaking sighed, Scarce repressed the starting tear, When the hoary sage replied, 'Come, my lad, and drink some beer.'" I could give another comical instance of caricatura imitation. Recollecting some day, when praising these verses of Lopez de Vega-- "Se acquien los leones vence, Vence una muger hermosa, O el de flaco averguence, O ella di ser mas furiosa," more than he thought they deserved, Mr. Johnson instantly observed "that they were founded on a trivial conceit, and that conceit ill-explained and ill-expressed besides. The lady, we all know, does not conquer in the same manner as the lion does. 'Tis a mere play of words," added he, "and you might as well say that "'If the man who turnips cries, Cry not when his father dies, 'Tis a proof that he had rather Have a turnip than his father.'" And this humour is of the same sort with which he answered the friend who commended the following line:-- "Who rules o'er freemen should himself be free." "To be sure," said Dr. Johnson-- "'Who drives fat oxen should himself be fat.'" This readiness of finding a parallel, or making one, was shown by him perpetually in the course of conversation. When the French verses of a certain pantomime were quoted thus: "Je suis Cassandre descendue des cieux, Pour vous faire entendre, mesdames et messieurs, Que je suis Cassandre descendue des cieux," he cried out gaily and suddenly, almost in a moment-- "I am Cassandra come down from the sky, To tell each bystander what none can deny, That I am Cassandra come down from the sky." The pretty Italian verses, too, at the end of Baretti's book called "Easy Phraseology," he did all' improviso, in the same manner: "Viva! viva la padrona! Tutta bella, e tutta buona, La padrona e un angiolella Tutta buona e tutta bella; Tutta bella e tutta buona; Viva! viva la padrona!" "Long may live my lovely Hetty! Always young and always pretty, Always pretty, always young, Live my lovely Hetty long! Always young and always pretty! Long may live my lovely Hetty!"