1216. Sir Isaac Newton, one evening in winter, feeling it extremely cold, instinctively drew his chair very close to the grate, in which a fire had been recently lighted. By degrees, the fire being burnt up, Sir Isaac began to feel the heat intolerably intense, and rang his bell with unusual violence. John was not at hand; he at last made his appearance, by the time Sir Isaac was almost literally roasted. Remove the grate, you lazy rascal! exclaimed Sir Isaac, in a tone of irritation very uncommon with that amiable and placid philosopher; remove the grate, ere I am burned to death? Please your honour, might you not rather draw back your chair? said John, a little waggishly. Upon my word, said Sir Isaac, smiling, I never thought of that. 1217. A judge, on passing sentence of death upon an Irishman, said as usual, I have nothing now to do but to pass the dreadful sentence of the law upon you. Oh, don’t trouble yourself on my account, interrupted Pat. I must do my duty, resumed the judge:―you must go from hence to the place of execution, where you are to be hanged by your neck till you are dead; and the Lord have mercy on your soul! I am much obliged to you, said the prisoner, but I never heard of any one thriving after your prayers. 1218. Triboulet, the fool of Francis the First, was threatened with death by a man in power, of whom he had been speaking disrespectfully; and he applied to the king for protection. Be satisfied, said the king; if any man shall put you to death, I will order him to be hanged a quarter of an hour after. Ah, Sir! replied Triboulet, I should be much obliged, if your Majesty would order him to be hanged a quarter of an hour before. 1219. An Irishman, having bought a sheep’s head, had been to a friend for a direction to dress it. As he was returning, repeating the method, and holding his purchase under his arm, a dog snatched it, and ran away. Now, my dear joy, said the Irishman, what a fool you make of yourself! what use will it be to you, as you don’t know how it is to be dressed? 1220. A penurious citizen, who used to feed his apprentices with nothing but lights and livers, and such like trash, having appointed to meet one of his men in the fields, the fellow came to him with a heavy clog upon his neck; his master asking him his reason for so doing, he answered him, That he had fed so long on lights, that he was forced to carry that weight about him, lest the air should blow him away. 1221. Dryden’s wife complained to him that he was always reading, and took little notice of her: I wish, said she, that I was a book, and then I should enjoy more of your company. Yes, my dear, replied Dryden, I wish you were a book―but an almanack, I mean, for then I should change you every year.