“Stand up, and hold up your right hand,” said a judge to a sailor, who had been summoned as a witness in a case of murder, and who had been instructed by some person to repeat what his lordship said to him, and precisely in the same tone in which it was delivered. “Stand up, and hold up your right hand,” replied the other. “What does the fellow mean?” said his lordship amazed. “What does the fellow mean?” answered the other. “This will never do,” said his lordship in a peremptory tone, “you must say the following words after me.” “This will never do; you must say the following words after me, and be d----d!” repeated the sailor. CASTING REFLECTIONS ON A PROFESSOR. In the late professor H----’s class, a gentleman’s gilded buttons happened to reflect the sun’s rays upon the professor’s face. The professor, as it may be supposed, ordered the gentleman to desist; the other, ignorant of the matter, with the utmost simplicity, affirmed, “that he would be the last in the class who would cast reflections on the professor.” A SMART ANSWER. An aged grey-haired beggar came to the door of a country ale-house in England, where the three greatest wits of the parish were sitting over a jug of the best. When he preferred his usual petition, one of the jocular companions ridiculed his appearance, calling him _Father Abraham_; the second called him _Father Isaac_; the third _Father Jacob_; asserting that he must be one of those reverend personages. But finding he answered to neither of those appellations, they exclaimed, “then who the devil are you?” The old man cast on them a look of contempt as he replied, “I am neither Abraham, Isaac, nor Jacob: but I am Saul the son of Kish; I was sent to seek my father’s three asses; here I have found them, and here I shall leave them.” MR. MOORE. Mr. Moore, the author of many ingenious pieces, being a long time under an expensive prosecution in Doctors’ Commons for marrying two sisters, was called upon one morning by his proctor, as he was writing his excellent tragedy of the _Gamester_: the proctor having a leisure hour, Mr. Moore read him four acts of his piece, which were all at that time finished. The proctor was so affected by it, that he exclaimed, “Good God! how can you possibly add to this couple’s distress in the last act?” “Oh, very easily,” says the poet; “there I intend to put them both into the _spiritual court_.” THE ITALIANS AND THE WAITER.