WHEN Reginald Heber read his prize poem of "Palestine" to Sir Walter Scott, the latter observed that, in the verses on Solomon's Temple, one striking circumstance had escaped him; namely, that no tools were used in its erection. Reginald retired for a few minutes to the corner of the room, and returned with the beautiful lines:-- "No hammer fell, no ponderous axes rung; Like some tall palm, the mystic fabric sprung. Majestic silence," &c. CMXXVIII.--THE STAFFORDSHIRE COLLIERIES. MANY anecdotes might be collected to show the great difficulty of discovering a person in the collieries without being in possession of his nickname. The following was received from a respectable attorney. During his clerkship he was sent to serve some legal process on a man whose name and address were given to him with legacy accuracy. He traversed the village to which he had been directed from end to end without success; and after spending many hours in the search was about to abandon it in despair, when a young woman who had witnessed his labors kindly undertook to make inquiries for him, and began to hail her friends for that purpose. "Oi say, Bullyed, does thee know a man named Adam Green?" The bull-head was shaken in sign of ignorance. "Loy-a-bed, does thee?" Lie-a-bed's opportunities of making acquaintance had been rather limited, and she could not resolve the difficulty. Stumpy (a man with a wooden leg), Cowskin, Spindleshanks, Corkeye, Pigtail, and Yellowbelly were severally invoked, but in vain; and the querist fell into a _brown study_, in which she remained for some time. At length, however, her eyes suddenly brightened, and, slapping one of her companions on the shoulder, she exclaimed, triumphantly, "Dash my wig! whoy he means my feyther!" and then, turning to the gentleman, she added, "You should ha' ax'd for _Ould Blackbird_!" CMXXIX.--A POSER. FOOTE was once met by a friend in town with a young man who was flashing away very brilliantly, while Foote seemed grave: "Why, Foote," said his friend, "you are flat to-day; you don't seem to relish a joke!"--"You have not _tried me_ yet, sir," said Foote. CMXXX.--MINDING HIS CUE. MR. ELLISTON was enacting the part of _Richmond_; and having, during the evening, disobeyed the injunction which the King of Denmark lays down to the Queen, "Gertrude, do not drink," he accosted Mr. Powell, who was personating _Lord Stanley_ (for the safety of whose son _Richmond_ is naturally anxious), THUS, on his entry, after the issue of the battle:-- Elliston (as _Richmond_). Your son, George Stanley, is he dead? Powell (as _Lord Stanley_). He is, my Lord, and _safe in Leicester town_! Elliston (as _Richmond_). I mean--ah!--is he missing? Powell (as _Lord Stanley_). He is, my Lord, and _safe in Leicester town_!!