The Bed-Book of Happiness | Page 7

it."
TRIBUTE TO BEAUTY [Sidenote: _Percy Anecdotes_]
As the late beautiful Duchess of Devonshire was one day stepping out
of her carriage, a dustman, who was accidentally standing by, and was
about to regale himself with his accustomed whiff of tobacco, caught a
glance of her countenance, and instantly exclaimed, "Love and bless
you, my lady, let me light my pipe in your eyes!" It is said the duchess
was so delighted with this compliment that she frequently afterwards
checked the strain of adulation, which was so constantly offered to her
charms, by saying, "Oh! after the dustman's compliment, all others are
insipid."
BEGGING QUARTER [Sidenote: _Percy Anecdotes_]
A French regiment at the battle of Spires had orders to give no quarter.
A German officer, being taken, begged his life. The Frenchman replied,
"Sir, you may ask me for any other favour; but, as for your life, it is
impossible for me to grant it."
GASCON REPROVED [Sidenote: _Percy Anecdotes_]
A descendant of a family in Gascony, celebrated for its flow of
language and love of talking, and not for any deeds of glory, descanted
before a numerous company upon the well-known bravery of his
ancestors and relations. He then, to show that the race had not
degenerated, modestly launched into a faithful description of his own
battles, duels, and successes. He was once, he said, a passenger on
board a French frigate during the war, and, falling in with an English
squadron composed of three seventy-fours, fought with them for five
hours, when luckily, the ship taking fire, he was blown up, with ten of

his countrymen, and dropped into one of the seventy-fours, the crew of
which laid down their arms and surrendered; while the two remaining
men-of-war, struck with dismay at the sight of one of their ships in the
possession of the enemy, crowded sails and ran away!
Such were his faithful accounts, with which he would still have
continued to annoy the company, had not one of his countrymen, more
enlightened, frankly acknowledged the natural propensity which leads
the inhabitants of Gascony to revel in imaginary scenes, resolved to
awe him into silence, and thus addressed him: "All your exploits are
mere commonplace, in comparison to those which I have achieved; and
I will relate a single one that surpasses all yours."
The babbler opened his ears, no doubt secretly intending to appropriate
this story to himself in future time, when none of the hearers should be
present, and modestly owned, that all those he had mentioned were
mere children's tricks, performed without any exertion, but that he had
some in store which might shine unobscured by the side of the most
brilliant deeds of ancient ages.
"One evening," said the other, "as I was returning to town from the
country, I had to pass through a narrow lane, well known for being
infested with highwaymen. My horse was in good order, my pistols
loaded, and my broadsword hung at my side; I entered the lane without
any apprehension. Scarcely had I reached the middle when a loud shout
behind me made me turn my head, and I saw a man with a short gun
running fast towards me. I was going to face him with my horse, when
two men with large cudgels in their hands, rushing from the hedge,
seized the reins, and threatened me with instant death. Undaunted, I
took my two pistols; but, before I had time to fire, one was knocked out
of my hand, the other went off, and one of the robbers fell. I then drew
my sword, and, though bruised by the blows I had received, struck with
all my might, and split the head of the other in two. Freed from my
danger on their side, I attempted a second time to turn my horse." Here
he paused a while; and our babbler, longing to know the end of this
adventure, exclaimed, "And the third!" "Oh, the third!" answered the
other; "he shot me dead."
ABSENT MAN [Sidenote: _Percy Anecdotes_]
A celebrated living poet, occasionally a little absent in mind, was
invited by a friend, whom he met in the street, to dine with him the next

Sunday at a country lodging, which he had taken for the summer
months. The address was, "near the Green Man at _Dulwich_"; which,
not to put his inviter to the trouble of pencilling down, the absent man
promised faithfully to remember. But when Sunday came, he, fully late
enough, made his way to Greenwich, and began inquiring for the sign
of the Dull Man! No such sign was to be found; and, after losing an
hour, a person guessed that though there was no Dull Man at
Greenwich, there was a Green Man at Dulwich, which the absent man
might possibly