and do not regard my threatenings.' The day
following he accomplished his point. At first I begged, then entreated and
abused, and would have discharged him; but he disregarded me, and raised me
up by absolute force. He had his reward every day for my ill-humour at the
moment of waking, by thanks, and a crown an hour after. I owe to poor
Joseph at least ten or twelve volumes of my works."

Cuvier, the celebrated naturalist, was singularly careful of his time, and
did not like those who entered his house to deprive him of it. "I know,"
said he, "that Monsieur l'Abbe Hauy comes to see _me_; our conversation is
an exchange; but I do not want a man to come and tell me whether it is hot
or cold, raining or sunshine. My barometer and thermometer know more than
all possible visitors; and in my studies in natural history," added he, "I
have not found in the whole animal kingdom a species, or class, or family,
who frighten me so much as the numerous family of _idlers_"

Dr. Pepusch.--"In one of my visits, very early in life, to that venerable
master, Dr. Pepusch," says Dr. Burney, "he gave me a short lesson, which
made so deep an impression that I long endeavoured to practise it. 'When I
was a young man,' said he, 'I determined never to go to bed at night, till
I knew something that I did not know in the morning.'"

TRAVELLING.

A Tiresome Companion.--The celebrated George Selwyn was once travelling,
and was interrupted by the frequent impertinence of a companion, who was
constantly teasing him with questions, and asking him how he did. "How are
you now, sir?" said the impertinent. George, in order to get rid of his
importunity, replied, "Very well: and I intend to continue so all the rest
of the journey."

Charles Lamb.--A farmer, by chance a companion in a coach with Charles
Lamb, kept boring him to death with questions, in the jargon of
agriculturists, about crops. At length he put a poser--"And pray, sir, how
are turnips this year?" "Why that, sir," stammered out Lamb, "will depend
upon the boiled legs of mutton."

Clans.--An English gentleman travelling through the Highlands, came to the
inn of Letter Finlay, in the braes of Lochaber. He saw no person near the
inn, and knocked at the door. No answer. He knocked repeatedly with as
little success; he then opened the door, and walked in. On looking about,
he saw a man lying on a bed, whom he hailed thus: "Are there any Christians
in this house?" "No," was