The Bed-Book of Happiness | Page 6

his pit up to the
very chin."
A POPE INNOCENT [Sidenote: _Percy Anecdotes_]
When King James I. visited Sir Thomas Pope, knt., in Oxfordshire, his
lady had lately brought him a daughter, and the babe was presented to
the King with a paper of verses in her hand; "Which," quoth Fuller, "as
they pleased the King, I hope they will please the reader."
See, this little mistress here, Did never sit in Peter's chair, Or a triple
crown did wear, And yet she is a Pope.
No benefice she ever sold, Nor did dispense with sins for gold, She
hardly is a se'nnight old, And yet she is a Pope.
No king her feet did ever kiss, Or had from her worse look than this;
Nor did she ever hope To saint one with a rope, And yet she is a Pope.
A female Pope you'll say, a second Joan! No, sure she is Pope Innocent,
or none!
A GOOD PARAPHRASE [Sidenote: _Percy Anecdotes_]
On the eve of a battle an officer came to ask permission of the
Maréchal de Toiras to go and see his father, who was on his death-bed.
"Go," said the general, "you honour your father and your mother, that
your days may be long in the land."
IRISH PRIEST [Sidenote: _Percy Anecdotes_]
An Irish peasant complained to the Catholic priest of his parish that
some person had stolen his best pig, and supplicated his reverence to
help him to the discovery of the thief. The priest promised his best

endeavours; and, his inquiries soon leading him to a correct enough
guess as to the offender, he took the following amusing method of
bringing the matter home to him. Next Sunday, after the service of the
day, he called out with a loud voice, fixing his eyes on the suspected
individual, "Who stole Pat Doolan's pig?" There was a long pause, and
no answer; he did not expect that there would be any; and descended
from the pulpit without saying a word more. A second Sunday arriving
without the pig being restored in the interval, his reverence, again
looking steadfastly at the stubborn purloiner and throwing a deep note
of anger into the tone of his voice, repeated the question. "Who stole
Pat Doolan's pig? I say, who stole poor Pat Doolan's pig?" Still there
was no answer, and the question was left as before, to work its effect in
secret on the conscience of the guilty individual. The hardihood of the
offender, however, exceeded all the honest priest's calculations. A third
Sunday arrived, and Pat Doolan was still without his pig. Some
stronger measure now became necessary. After service was performed
his reverence, dropping the question of "Who stole Pat Doolan's pig?"
but still without directly accusing any one of the theft, reproachfully
exclaimed, "Jimmie Doran! Jimmie Doran! you trate me with
contimpt." Jimmie Doran hung down his head, and next morning the
pig was found at the door of Pat Doolan's cabin.
A DIGRESSION [Sidenote: _Percy Anecdotes_]
The celebrated Henderson, the actor, was seldom known to be in a
passion. When at Oxford, he was one day debating with a fellow
student, who, not keeping his temper, threw a glass of wine in his face.
Mr. Henderson took out his handkerchief, wiped his face, and coolly
said, "That, sir, was a digression; now for the argument."
FORTUNE-TELLER [Sidenote: _Percy Anecdotes_]
A fortune-teller was arrested at his theatre of divination, al fresco, at
the corner of the rue de Bussy in Paris, and carried before the tribunal
of correctional police. "You know to read the future?" said the
president, a man of great wit, but too fond of a joke for a magistrate.
"In this case," said the judge, "you know the judgment we intend to
pronounce." "Certainly." "Well, what will happen to you?" "Nothing."
"You are sure of it?" "You will acquit me." "Acquit you!" "There is no
doubt of it." "Why?" "Because, sir, if it had been your intention to
condemn me, you would not have added irony to misfortune." The

president, disconcerted, turned to his brother judges, and the sorcerer
was acquitted.
GASCONADES [Sidenote: _Percy Anecdotes_]
A Gascon, passing one night through a churchyard, thought he saw a
spectre drawing forth his sword. He called out aloud, "Aha! do you
want to be killed a second time? I am your man."
Another hero of the same country used to say that he could not look
into a mirror without being afraid of himself.
When Robespierre had been guillotined at Paris, a Gascon officer in the
French army thus expressed the dread he had entertained of that tyrant:
"As often as the name of Robespierre was mentioned to me, I used to
take off my hat, in order to see if my head was in