One day, when Sir Isaac Heard was in company with George III., it was announced that his majesty’s horse was ready for hunting. “Sir Isaac,” said the king, “are you a judge of horses?” “In my younger days, please your majesty, I was a great deal among them,” was the reply. “What do you think of this, then?” said the king, who was by this time preparing to mount his favourite; and without waiting for an answer, added, “we call him _Perfection_.” “A most appropriate name,” replied the courtly herald, bowing as his majesty reached the saddle; “for he bears the best of characters.” IF YOU CAN, I CANNOT. An American gentleman, who was so passionately fond of backgammon, that, even to be a spectator of it much interested him, happened to be surveying a game in which one of the players shewed an evident inferiority to the other. As the game proceeded, he was wrought up to a pitch of perfect fury at the bad play of this individual, who on the other hand, maintained, under all his reverses, a coolness perfectly admirable. “Can you bear that?” cried the American at every hit made by the good player. “Why not?” said the other, with perfect indifference. At last, on the good player gaining an advantage of a particularly brilliant nature, “Can you really bear that?” exclaimed the American. “Why not?” drawled out the loser, with his usual philosophic coolness. “Well,” cried the American, “if you can I cannot;” and seizing the board, he threw the whole, dice, men, and everything, into the fire. A COMPLICATION OF DISORDERS. “What did Mr. ---- die of?” asked a simple neighbour. “Of a complication of disorders,” replied his friend. “How do you describe this complication, my good sir?” “He died,” answered the other, “of two physicians, an apothecary, and a surgeon!” GOOD EXCHANGE. Garrick having remarked at the Beef-Steak Club, that he had so large a mass of manuscript plays submitted to his perusal, that they were constantly liable to be mislaid, he observed, that, unpleasant as it was to reject an author’s piece, it was an affront to the poor devil’s feelings if it could not instantly be found; and that, for this reason, he made a point of ticketing and labelling the play that was to be returned, that it might be forthcoming at a moment’s notice. “A fig for your hypocrisy!” exclaimed Murphy, across the table: “you know Davy, you mislaid my tragedy two months ago, and I make no doubt you have lost it.” “Yes,” replied Garrick; “but you forget, you ungrateful dog, that I offered you more than its value; for you might have had two manuscript farces in its stead.” STAKE VERSUS STEAK.