228. A wild Gentleman having pick'd up his own Wife for a Mistress, the Man, to keep his Master in Countenance, got to Bed to the Maid too. In the Morning, when the Thing was discovered, the Fellow was obliged, in Attonement for his Offence, to make the Girl amends by marrying her; _Well_, says he, _little did my Master and I think last Night, that we were robbing our own Orchards_. 229. One seeing a kept Whore, who made a very great Figure, ask'd, what Estate she had? _Oh_, says another, _a very good Estate in_ Tail. 230. In the great Dispute between _South_ and _Sherlock_, the former, who was a great Courtier, said, His Adversary reasoned well, but he Bark'd like a Cur: To which the other reply'd, That Fawning was the Property of a Cur, as well as Barking. 231. Second Thoughts, we commonly say, are best; and young Women who pretend to be averse to Marriage, desire not to be taken at their Words. One asking a Girl, _if she would have him?_ _Faith, no_, John, says she, _but you may have me if you will_. 232. A Gentleman lying on his Death-Bed, called to his Coachman, who had been an old Servant, and said, _Ah!_ Tom, _I'm going a long rugged Journey, worse than ever you drove me? Oh, dear Sir_, reply'd the Fellow (he having been but an indifferent Master to him), _ne'er let that discourage you, for it is all down Hill_. 233. An honest bluff Country Farmer, meeting the Parson of the Parish in a By-Lane, and not giving him the Way so readily as he expected, the Parson, with an erected Crest, told him, _He was better fed than taught: Very likely indeed Sir_, reply'd the Farmer: _For you teach me and I feed myself_. 234. A famous Teacher of _Arithmetick_, who had long been married without being able to get his Wife with Child: One said to her, Madam, your Husband is an excellent _Arithmetician_. Yes, replies she, only he can't _multiply_. 235. One making a furious Assault upon a hot Apple-pye, burnt his Mouth 'till the Tears ran down; his Friend asked him, _Why he wept?_ _Only_, says he, _'tis just come into my Mind, that my Grand-mother dy'd this Day twelvemonth_: _Phoo!_ says the other, _is that all?_ So whipping a large Piece into his Mouth, he quickly sympathiz'd with his Companion; who seeing his Eyes brim full, with a malicious Sneer ask'd him, _why he wept?_ _A Pox on you_, says he, _because you were not hanged the same Day your Grand-mother dy'd_. 236. A Lady who had married a Gentleman that was a tolerable Poet, one Day sitting alone with him, she said, Come, my Dear, you write upon other People, prithee write something for me; let me see what Epitaph you'll bestow upon me when I die: Oh, my Dear, reply'd he, that's a melancholy Subject, prithee don't think of it: Nay, upon my Life you shall, adds she,----Come, I'll begin, ----_Here lies_ Bidd: To which he answer'd, _Ah! I wish she did_.