Verstile News

BEAUTIFULL QOUTES November 29, 2007

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 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_
mean! This remark connected the broken chain, and the poet was under the
necessity of taking his chop by himself.