991. Mr. Pope being 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 do not 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 to make two men, than mend one such as you. 992. A fellow, walking down Holborn Hill on a sultry summer evening, observed an old gentleman, without his hat, panting and leaning upon a post, and courteously asked him what was the matter? Sir, said the old man, an impudent puppy has just snatched my hat off, and run away with it: I have run after him until I have quite lost my breath, and cannot, if my life depended on it, go a step farther. What, not a step? said the fellow. Not a step, returned he. Why then, by Jupiter, I must have your wig; and snatching off his fine flowing caxon, the thief was out of sight in a minute. 993. Two tars, just landed, went to see an old acquaintance, who kept what they humorously called a grog-shop, in a village near Portsmouth, the sign of the Angel. On their entering the place, they stared about for the wished-for sign. There it is! said one. Why, you fool, replied the other, that’s a peacock. Who do you call fool? retorted Ben; how the devil should I know the difference, when I never saw an angel in my life? 994. The late Colonel O’Kelly, well known to all the lovers of the turf, having, at a Newmarket meeting, proposed a considerable wager to a gentleman who, it seems, had no knowledge of him; the stranger, suspecting the challenge came from one of the black-legged fraternity, begged to know what security he would give for so large a sum if he should lose, and where his estates lay. O! the dear craters, I have the map of them about me, and here it is, sure enough, said O’Kelly, pulling out a pocket-book, and giving unequivocal proofs of his property, by producing bank-notes to a considerable amount. 995. After a successful attack on the royal party in 1745, a Higlander gained a watch as his share of the plunder. Unacquainted with its use, he listened with equal surprise and pleasure to the ticking sound with which his new acquisition amused him; after a few hours, however, the watch was down, the noise ceased, and the dispirited owner, looking on the toy no longer with satisfaction, determined to conceal the misfortune which had befallen it, and to dispose of it to the first person who should offer him a trifle in exchange. He soon met with a customer, but at parting he could not help exclaiming, Why, she died last night.