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are Coals now, Sir! To which his customer replied, "I'm very glad to hear it, for the last you sent me were all slates."
A gentleman having occasion to call for Mr. Joseph G———n; writer, found him at home in his writing chamber. He remarked the great heat of the apartment, and said, It was as hot as an oven. "So it ought," replied Mr. G. "for it is here I make my bread."
The late well known Sandy Wood, surgeon in Edinburgh, was walking through the streets of that city during the time of an illumination, when he observed a young rascal, not above 12 years of age, breaking every window he could reach, with as much industry as if he had been doing the most commendable action in the world. Enraged at this mischievous disposition, Sandy seized him by the collar, and asked him what he meant by thus destroying the honest people's windows? Why, it's all for the good of trade, replied the young urchin, I am a glazier. All for the good of trade, is it? said Sandy, raising his cane, and breaking the boy's head, There, then, that's for the good of my trade,—I am a surgeon.
Barrymore happening to come late to the theatre, and having to dress for his part, was driven to the last moment, when, to heighten his perplexity, the key of his drawer was amissing.—'D—n it," said he, "I must have swallowed it." 'Never mind," says Jack Bannister, "if you have, it will serve to open your chest."
Mr. Curran being retained against a young offi-
