36. Tom B―rn―t happening to be at dinner at my Lord Mayor’s, in the latter part of Queen Anne’s reign, after two or three healths, the ministry was toasted; but when it came to Tom’s turn to drink, he diverted it for some time by telling a story to the person who sat next him; the chief magistrate of the city, not seeing his toast go round, called out, Gentlemen, where sticks the ministry? At nothing, said Tom, and so drank off his glass.
37. My Lord Craven, in King James the First’s reign, was very desirous to see Ben Jonson, which being told to Ben, he went to my lord’s house; but being in a very tattered condition, as poets sometimes are, the porter refused him admittance, with some saucy language, which the other did not fail to return. My lord, happening to come out while they were wrangling, asked the occasion of it? Ben, who stood in need of nobody to speak for him, said, he understood his lordship desired to see him. You, friend? said my lord, who are you? Ben Jonson, replied the other. No, no, quoth my lord, you cannot be Ben Jonson, who wrote the Silent Woman; you look as if you could not say Bo to a goose. Bo, cried Ben. Very well, said my lord, who was better pleased at the joke than offended at the affront, I am now convinced, by your wit, you are Ben Jonson.
38. A certain fop was boasting in company that he had every sense in perfection. There is one you are quite without, said one who was by, and that is common sense.
39. An Irish lawyer of the Temple having occasion to go to dinner, left these directions written, and put in the key-hole of his chamber door: I am gone to the Elephant and Castle, where you shall find me; and if you can’t read this note, carry it down to the stationer’s, and he will read it for you.
40. Old Dennis, who had been the author of many plays, going by a brandy-shop in St. Paul’s Church Yard, the man who kept it came out to him, and desired him to drink a dram. For what reason? said he. Because you are a dramatic poet, answered the other. Well, sir, said the old gentleman, thou art an out-of-the-way fellow, and I will drink a dram with thee: but when he had so done, he asked him to pay for it: ’Sdeath, Sir, said the bard, did you not ask me to drink a dram, because I was a dramatic poet? Yes, sir, replied the fellow, but I did not think you had been a dram-o’tick poet.