The Choice Humorous Works, Ludicrous Adventures, Bons Mots, Puns, and Hoaxes of Theodore HookHook, Theodore Edward
General
The Choice Humorous Works, Ludicrous Adventures, Bons Mots, Puns, and Hoaxes of Theodore Hook
Hook, Theodore Edward
English wit and humor
When you go away, if it is a wet night, and you are without a cloak
or great-coat, take the first that fits you; you can send it back
in the morning when it is fine: remember you do. This rule applies
equally to umbrellas.
Never pay your subscription till the very last day fixed by the
regulations; why should the trustees get the interest of your money
for two or three months? Besides, when strangers come in to see the
house, they will find your name over the fire-place, which will show
that you belong to the Club.
An observance of these general rules, with a little attention to a
few minor points, which it is scarcely possible to allude to more
particularly here, will render you a most agreeable member of the
Society to which you belong, and which it will be right to denounce
everywhere else as the most execrable hole in London, in which
you can get nothing fit either to eat or drink, but in which you,
yourself, nevertheless, breakfast, dine, and sup every day, when you
are not otherwise engaged.
RACHAEL STUBBS'S LETTER TO RICHARD TURNER
Sadrgov, April 3, 18--.
DEER RICHUD,--I receved yewer kind leather on Fryday, wich fond me in
good helth, but not spirts,--for sins yew went a whay i have encresed
my sise hand teers. Yew was kindust off the kind, and i cud have
wukked has kitching-mad frum marwn to nite if yew had note gon; but
sins yew want away iviry think sims to go rong. Muster Fishir, wich
is, ginrilly speking, has gemmunly a Cock as is, scalds me iviry day
for nott beasting the jints; hand Missus Stoak says I pays no manor
of respict to her for nott gitting their diners better dun, wich I
bleve, Richud, his owen to yewer habsence. If I thote all wot yew
sed was sinsear hand yew ment it, i wud give wharning hand go hat
my munt; but praps, deer Richud, yew whas only roging me, wich wud
be onkind and crule. Tommus Wite is halways laffing hat me about
yew, hand says I ham a grate fowl hif I wait for yew, for yew ment
nuthink, and says it is eye tim i was marred, wich he wood willinly
do imself; but I says, no, Tommus, i likes yew well enuff, but as
long has Richud Turner sticks to is bargin, i ham is, hand is aloan.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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