One night, when Macklin was formally preparing to begin a lecture, hearing Foote rattling away at the lower end of the room, and thinking to silence him at once, he called out in his sarcastic manner, "Pray, young gentleman, do you know what I am going to say?" "No, sir," said Foote quickly: "do you?" BARON NEWMAN This celebrated gambler (well known about town thirty years ago by the title of the left-handed Baron), being detected in the rooms at Bath in the act of secreting a card, the company in the warmth of their resentment threw him out of the window of a one-pair-of-stairs room, where they were playing. The Baron, meeting Foote some time afterward, loudly complained of this usage, and asked him what he should do to repair his injured honor. "Do?" said the wit; "why, 'tis a plain case: never play so high again as long as you live." MRS. ABINGTON When Mrs. Abington returned from her very first successful trip to Ireland, Foote wished to engage her for his summer theatre; but in the mean time Garrick secured her for Drury Lane. Foote, on hearing this, asked her why she gave Garrick the preference. "I don't know how it was," said she: "he talked me over by telling me that he would make me immortal, so that I did not know how to refuse him." "Oh! did he so? Then I'll soon outbid him that way; for come to me and I will give you two pounds a week more, and charge you nothing for immortality." GARLIC-EATERS Laughing at the imbecilities of a common friend one day, somebody observed, "It was very surprising; and Tom D---- knew him very well, and thought him far from being a fool." "Ah, poor Tom!" said Foote, "he is like one of those people who eat garlic themselves, and therefore can't smell it in a companion." MODE OF BURYING ATTORNEYS IN LONDON A gentleman in the country, who had just buried a rich relation who was an attorney, was complaining to Foote, who happened to be on a visit with him, of the very great expense of a country funeral in respect to carriages, hat-bands, scarves, etc. "Why, do you bury your attorneys here?" asked Foote gravely. "Yes, to be sure we do; how else?" "Oh, we never do that in London." "No?" said the other much surprised, "how do you manage?" "Why, when the patient happens to die, we lay him out in a room over night by himself, lock the door, throw open the sash, and in the morning he is entirely off." "Indeed!" said the other in amazement; "what becomes of him?" "Why, that we cannot exactly tell, not being acquainted with supernatural causes. All that we know of the matter is, that there's a strong smell of brimstone in the room the next morning." DINING BADLY Foote, returning from dinner with a lord of the admiralty, was met by a friend, who asked him what sort of a day he had had. "Very indifferent indeed; bad company and a worse dinner." "I wonder at that," said the other, "as I thought the admiral a good jolly fellow."