The captain asked to hear it on the pianoforte; and having done so, laid down the thirty guineas, pocketed the march, and walked away. Haydn tried to stop him, but in vain—the march was very good. “But I have written two others,” cried Haydn, “which are better—hear them and take your choice.” “I like the first very well, and that is enough,” answered the captain, pursuing his way downstairs. Haydn followed, crying out, “But I make you a present of them.” “I won’t have them,” roared the seaman, and bolted out at the street door. Haydn, determined not to be outdone, hastened to the Exchange, and, discovering the name of the ship and her commander, sent the marches on board, with a polite note, which the captain, surmising its contents, sent back unopened. The composer tore the marches into a thousand pieces, and never forgot this liberal English humourist as long as he lived. TABLE-TALK.—_Welsh rabbit_ is a genuine slang term, belonging to a large group, which describes in the same way the special dish or product or peculiarity of a particular district. For example, an _Essex lion_ is a calf; a _Fieldlane duck_ is a baked sheep’s head; _Glasgow magistrates_ or _Norfolk capons_ are red herrings; _Irish apricots_ or _Munster plums_ are potatoes; and _Gravesend sweetmeats_ are shrimps. A FOOLISH INVESTMENT.—It is foolish to lay out money in the purchase of repentance.—_Franklin._ RULING AND SERVING. I am ashamed that women are so simple.... To seek for rule, supremacy and sway, When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.—_Shakespeare._ A HARD TASK.—It is often difficult to control our feelings; it is still harder to subdue our will; but it is an arduous undertaking to control the contending will of others.—_Crabb._ THE ART OF AUTHORSHIP.—The great art of a writer shows itself in the choice of pleasing allusions.—_Addison._ AFFECTATION.—Affectation is an awkward and forced imitation of what should be genuine and easy, wanting the beauty that accompanies what is natural.—_Locke._ THE HAPPY AND THE DISCONTENTED. Some people, not to be copied, live in a perpetual state of fret. The weather is always objectionable; the temperature is never satisfactory. They have too much to do, and are driven to death, or too little, and have no resources. If they are ill they know they shall never get well; if they are well they expect soon to be ill. Their daily work is either drudgery, which they hate, or so difficult and complex that they cannot execute it.