rass widow!"

The kindly spirit of British humor is revealed even in sarcastic jesting
on the domestic relation, which, on the contrary, provokes the bitterest
jibes of the Latins. The shortest of jokes, and perhaps the most famous,
was in the single word of _Punch's_ advice to those about to get
married:

"Don't!"

The like good nature is in the words of a woman who was taken to a
hospital in the East End of London. She had been shockingly beaten, and
the attending surgeon was moved to pity for her and indignation against
her assailant.

"Who did this?" he demanded. "Was it your husband?"

"Lor' bless yer, no!" she declared huffily. "W'y, my 'usband 'e 's more
like a friend nor a 'usband!"

Likewise, of the two men who had drunk not wisely but too well, with
the result that in the small hours they retired to rest in the gutter.
Presently, one of the pair lifted his voice in protest:

"I shay, le's go to nuzzer hotel--this leaksh!"

Or the incident of the tramp, who at the back door solicited alms of a
suspicious housewife. His nose was large and of a purple hue. The woman
stared at it with an accusing eye, and questioned bluntly:

"What makes your nose so red?"

The tramp answered with heavy sarcasm:

"That 'ere nose o' mine, mum, is a-blushin' with pride, 'cause it ain't
stuck into other folks's business."

But British wit, while often amiable enough, may on occasion be as
trenchant as any French sally. For example, we have the definition of
gratitude as given by Sir Robert Walpole--"A lively sense of future
favors." The Marquis of Salisbury once scored a clumsy partner at whist
by his answer to someone who asked how the game progressed: "I'm doing
as well as could be expected, considering that I have three
adversaries." So the retort of Lamb, when Coleridge said to him:
"Charles, did you ever hear me lecture?". * * * "I never heard you do
anything else." And again, Lamb mentioned in a letter how Wordsworth had
said that he did not see much difficulty in writing like Shakespeare, if
he had a mind to try it. "Clearly," Lamb continued, "nothing is wanted
but the mind." Then there is the famous quip that runs back to Tudor
times, although it has been attributed to various later celebrities,
including Doctor Johnson: A concert singer was executing a number lurid
with vocal pyrotechnics. An admirer remarked that the piece was
tremendously difficult. This drew the retort from another auditor:

"Difficult! I