A PAINTER of very middling abilities turned doctor: on being questioned respecting this change, he answered, "In painting, all faults are _exposed_ to view; but in medicine, they are _buried_ with the patient." MXIX.--DOGMATISM IS pupyism come to its full growth.--D.J. MXX.--SALAD. TO make this condiment your poet begs The pounded yellow of two hard boiled eggs; Two boiled potatoes, passed through kitchen-sieve, Smoothness and softness to the salad give; Let onion atoms lurk within the bowl, And, half-suspected, animate the whole. Of mordant mustard add a single spoon, Distrust the condiment that bites too soon; But deem it not, thou man of herbs, a fault, To add a double quantity of salt. And, lastly, o'er the flavored compound toss A magic soup-spoon of anchovy sauce. O green and glorious!--O herbaceous treat! 'T would tempt the dying anchorite to eat; Back to the world he'd turn his fleeting soul, And plunge his fingers in the salad-bowl! Serenely full, the epicure would say, "Fate cannot harm me, I have dined to-day!" MXXI.--ACTOR. A MEMBER of one of the dramatic funds was complaining of being obliged to retire from the stage with an income of only one hundred and fifty pounds a year, upon which an old officer, on half-pay, said to him: "A comedian has no reason to complain, whilst a man like me, crippled with wounds, is content with half that sum."--"What!" replied the actor; "and do you reckon as nothing the honor of being able to _say so_?" MXXII.--EPIGRAM. THAT Lord ---- owes nothing, one safely may say, For his creditors find he has nothing to pay. MXXIII.--CANDID ON BOTH SIDES. "I RISE for information," said a member of the legislative body. "I am very glad to hear it," said a bystander, "for no man _wants_ it more." MXXIV.--CARROTS CLASSICALLY CONSIDERED. WHY scorn red hair? The Greeks, we know (I note it here in charity), Had taste in beauty, and with them The Graces were all [Greek: Charitai]! MXXV.--DOING HOMAGE. RETURNING from hunting one day, George III. entered affably into conversation with his wine-merchant, Mr. Carbonel, and rode with him side by side a considerable way. Lord Walsingham was in attendance; and watching an opportunity, took Mr. Carbonel aside, and whispered something to him. "What's that? what's that Walsingham has been saying to you?" inquired the good-humored monarch. "I find, sir, I have been unintentionally guilty of disrespect; my lord informed me that I ought to have taken off my hat whenever I addressed your Majesty; but your Majesty will please to observe, that whenever I hunt, my hat is fastened to my wig, and my wig is fastened to my head, and I am on the back of a very high-spirited horse, so that if anything _goes off_ we must _all go off together_!" The king laughed heartily at this apology.