1 Mr. Wilson's flaming bills of “Dancing at the Old Bailey,” which are so profusely stuck up about the city, are said to have occasioned several awkward jokes and blunders; among others related, is that of a great unintellectual Yorkshire booby, who, after staring at the bills with his mouth open, and his saucer eyes nearly starting out of his head with astonishment, exclaimed, “Dang the buttons on't, I zee'd urn dangling all of a row last Wednesday at t' Ould Bailey, but didn't know as how they call'd that danzing,--by gum there be no understanding these here Lunnun folk!” ~45~~during Lent, declaring she never drinks any thing else but the _most bestest_ gunpowder tea, that she has a most _screwciating_ cold, and that the country air is always _salubrus_, and sure to do her good. “So much for living in style, and good breeding.” “That's your true breeding--that's your sort my boys-- Fun, fire, and pathos--metre, mirth, and noise; To make you die with laughter, or the hiccups, Tickle your favourites, or smash your tea-cups.” “By the way, in former times the term _good-breeding_ meant a combination of all that was amiable and excellent; and a well-bred person would shrink from an action or expression that could possibly wound the feelings of another; its foundation was laid in truth, and its supporting pillars were justice and integrity, sensibility and philanthropy; but “In this gay age--in Taste's enlighten'd times, When Fashion sanctifies the basest crimes; E'en not to swear and game were impolite, Since he who sins in _style_ must sure be right.” A well-bred person must learn to smile when he is angry, and to laugh even when he is vexed to the very soul. “It would be the height of _mauvaise honte_ for a wellbred person to blush upon any occasions whatever; no young lady blushes after eleven years of age; to study the expression of the countenance of others, in order to govern your own, is indispensably necessary.