Foote and Garrick were at the tavern together, when the former, pulling out his purse to pay the reckoning, asked the other what he should do with a light guinea he had? “Pshaw! it is worth nothing,” says Garrick; “fling it to the devil!” “Well, David,” says the other, “you are what I always took you for, ever contriving to make a guinea go further than any other man.” COUNSEL’S OPINION. An eminent barrister had a case sent to him for an opinion. The case stated was the most preposterous and improbable that had ever occurred to the mind of man, and concluded by asking, whether, under such circumstances, an action would lie? He took his pen, and wrote,--“Yes if the witnesses _will lie too_; but not otherwise.” DEAN SWIFT’S OPINION OF FAULTS. Dean Swift had a shoulder of mutton brought up for his dinner, too much done: he sent for the cook, and told her to take the mutton down, and do it less. “Please your honour, I cannot do it less.” “But,” says the Dean, “if it had not been done enough, you could have done it more, could you not?” “Oh, yes! very easily.” “Why, then,” says the Dean, “for the future, when you commit a fault, let it be such a one as can be mended.” PLAYING THE FOOL. A lady beating a tune on a table, as destitute of harmony as time, asked another, if she knew what she played? “I do,” answered she; “you play the _fool_.” EASIER TO MAKE THAN MEND. Pope, one night crossing the street from Button’s coffee-house, when the moon occasionally peeped through a cloud, was accosted by a link-boy, with “Light, your honour; Light, your honour!” He repeatedly exclaimed, “I don’t want you.” But the lad still following him, he peevishly cried out, “Get about your business, God mend me! I will not give you a farthing; it’s light enough.” “It’s light enough!” echoed the lad; “what’s light enough? your _head_ or your _pocket_? God _mend_ you, indeed! it would be easier for God Almighty to _make_ two men, than _mend_ one such as you.” WILLIAM DUKE OF CUMBERLAND. Foote rattling away one evening in his green-room with great wit and brilliancy, as usual, the Duke of Cumberland, who was present, and seemed highly entertained, cried out, “Well, Foote, you see I swallow all your good things.” “Do you, my Lord Duke,” says the other; “why, then, I congratulate you on your digestion; for, by G--d, I believe you never _threw up_ one of them in your life.” SHERIDAN. When Sheridan’s life was to be insured, Mr. Aaron Graham, the magistrate, was applied to, in order to know whether Mr. Sheridan was, at that period, living a more regular life than usual. “I believe he is,” said the justice; “but understand me; I think he is more regularly tipsy, every night _now_, than he has been for several years past.” A TRAFALGAR ANECDOTE.