506. Lieutenant Connolly, an Irishman in the service of the United States, during the American war, chanced to take three Hessian prisoners himself, without any assistance. Being asked by the commander in chief how he had taken them? I surrounded them, was the answer. 507. A seedsman being held to bail for having used inflammatory language respecting the reform bill, a wag observed, It was probably in the line of his profession―to promote business, he wished to sow sedition. 508. When Quin and Garrick performed at the same theatre, and in the same play, the night being very stormy, each ordered a chair. To the mortification of Quin, Mr. Garrick’s chair came up first. Let me get into the chair, cried the surly veteran―let me get into the chair, and put little Davy into the lantern. By all means, said Garrick; I shall ever be happy to give Mr. Quin light in anything. 509. The late Richard Russel, esq. had a renter’s share at Drury Lane, where he used to go almost every evening; and, notwithstanding his immense fortune, his penury was so great, that rather than give a trifle to any of the women who attended in the lobby-box to take care of his great coat on an evening, he used constantly to pledge it for a shilling, at a pawnbroker’s near the theatre, and redeem it when the performance was over, which cost him one halfpenny interest. 510. A mountebank, expatiating on the virtues of his drawing salve, and reciting many instances of its success, was interrupted by an old woman, who asserted, rather iron-ically, that she had seen it draw out of a door four rusty tenpenny nails, that defied the united efforts of two of the strongest blacksmiths, with their hammers and pincers. 511. At the close of that season in which Shuter, the comedian, first became so universally and deservedly celebrated in his Master Stephen, in the revived comedy of Every Man in his Humour, he was engaged for a few nights, in a principal city in the north of England. It happened that the coach in which he went down (and in which there was only an old gentleman and himself) was stopped on the other side of Finchley Common by a highwayman. The old gentleman, in order to save his own money, pretended to be asleep; but Shuter resolved to be even with him. Accordingly, when the highwayman presented his pistol, and commanded Shuter to deliver his money instantly, or he was a dead man―Money! returned he, with an idiotic shrug, and a countenance inexpressibly vacant; Oh! Lord, sir, they never trusts me with any; for nuncle here always pays for me, turnpikes and all, your honour! Upon which the highwayman giving him a few curses for his stupidity, complimented the old gentleman with a smart slap on the face to awaken him, and robbed him of every shiling; while Shuter, who did not lose a single farthing, with great satisfaction and merriment, pursued his journey, laughing heartily at his fellow-traveller.