AN IRISHMAN’S RESOURCES.
Baron R , one of the gravest and most decorous Judges on the bench, had a younger brother singularly unlike him, who was a perpetual thorn in his side. A scapegrace at school, the youth would learn nothing, and was the torment of his teachers. Having been set a sura by one of the latter, he, after an undue delay, presented himself before the desk and held up his slate, at one corner of which appeared a pile of coppers. * What is the meaning of all this, sir ? ’ said the master.
The originality of the device disarmed the wrath of the pedagogue, and young R was dismissed with his coppers to his place. The youngster when grown up boasted an enormous pair of whiskers, of which he was very proud. One day a friend met him walking up Dame street, with one of these cherished bushy adornments shaved clean off, giving a most comical lop-sided appearance to his physiognomy. ‘ Hollo, R ! ’ he exclaimed, ‘ what has become of your whisker ? ’ ‘Lost it at play,’ he replied. ‘Regularly cleaned out last night at the gaming table of every mortal thing I bad—nothing left to wager but my whisker.’ ‘ And why, man, don’t you cut off the rest, and not have one side of your face laughing at the other P *
‘l’m keeping that for to-night,’ said the scamp with a wink, as he passed on.— Chain hers.
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Bibliographic details
Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1381, 19 July 1878, Page 3
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237AN IRISHMAN’S RESOURCES. Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1381, 19 July 1878, Page 3
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