Then nymphs had bluer eyes than hose, England then measured men by blows, And measured time by candles.

FREDERICK LOCKER, _London Lyrics_.

A woman's choice usually means taking the only man she can get.

_Mrs. Cadwallader_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Middlemarch_.

To charm the girls he never spoke-- Although his voice was fine; He found the most convenient way Was just to drop a line.

And many a gudgeon of the pond, If they could speak to-day, Would own, with grief, this angler had A mighty "taking" way.

JOHN G.o.dFREY SAXE, _Poems_.

I am always afraid of a fool: one cannot be sure that he is not a knave as well.

W. HAZLITT, _Characteristics_.

The people is much given to stoning its prophets that it may worship their reliques with the greater fervency: dogs that bark at us to-day lick our bones to-morrow with true canine fidelity.

HEINRICH HEINE, _Ludwig Beorne_.

Money makes a man laugh. A blind fiddler playing to a company, and playing but scurvily, the company laughed at him. His boy that led him, perceiving it, cried, "Father, let us begone; they do nothing but laugh at you." "Hold peace, boy," said the fiddler; "we shall have their money presently, and then we will laugh at them."

SELDEN, _Table Talk_.

In candent ire the solar splendour flames; The foles, languescent, pend from arid rames; His humid front the cive, anheling, wipes, And dreams of erring on ventiferous ripes.

How dulce to vive occult from mortal eyes, Dorm on the herb with none to supervise, Carp the suave berries from the crescent vine, And bibe the flow from longicaudate kine!

Me wretched! Let me curr to quercine shades!

Effund your albid hausts, lactiferous maids!

Oh, might I vole to some umbrageous clump,-- Depart--be off--exude--evade--erump!

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

He slaps me gently on the back. He's stopped too long in the wine-cellar. A little tasting is a dangerous thing.

F. C. BURNAND, _Happy Thoughts_.

_THE MAIDENS._

Lovers, we pray you, gaining our consents, Let us, too, have _our_ mediaeval bents; Give us, for cricket matches, tournaments.

_THE WIDOWERS._

We are stout, nor will uncomfortably truss Our arms and legs, like fowls; no jousts for us; In armour we should look ridiculous.

_THE FATHERS._

Of money, tournaments would cost a heap; Humour your sweethearts, sons, with something cheap; But look to settlements before you leap.

_Once a Week._

He [Samuel Beazley] suffered considerably a short time before his decease, and, his usual spirits occasionally forsaking him, he one day wrote so melancholy a letter that the friend to whom it was addressed, observed, in his reply, that it was "like the first chapter of Jeremiah." "You are mistaken, my dear fellow," retorted the wit; "it is the last chapter of Samuel."

J. R. PLANCHe, _Recollections_.

No one can perceive, as I'm a sinner, A very marked improvement in the dinner.

We still consume, with mingled shame and grief, Veal that is tottering on the verge of beef, Veal void of stuffing, widowed of its ham, Or the roast shoulder of an ancient ram.

_Decius Mus_, in G. O. TREVELYAN's _Horace at Athens_.

"As for that," said Waldershare, "sensible men are all of the same religion."

"And pray what is that?" inquired the prince.

"Sensible men never tell."

LORD BEACONSFIELD, _Endymion_.

_ON AN OLD LOVE._

Upon the cabin stairs we met, the voyage nearly over; You leant upon his arm, my pet, from Calais unto Dover!

And _he_ is looking very glad, tho' I am feeling sadder, That _I'm_ not your companion-lad on that companion-ladder!

J. ASHBY STERRY, in _English Epigrams_.

It strikes me that one mother-in-law is about enough to have in a family--unless you're very fond of excitement.

C. F. BROWNE, _Artemus Ward's Lecture_.

"Come here, my boy, hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, sir; Jist tell me who King Jonah was; Now tell me, if you can, sir."

"King Jonah was the strongest man That ever wore a crown, sir; For though the whale did swallow him, It couldn't keep him down, sir."

"You're right, my boy, hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, sir; Just tell me who that Moses was; Now tell me, if you can, sir."