A certain person, who shall be nameless, filled the situation of
Plumian Professor of Astronomy at Oxford. He was a great stickler
for decorum, and all due respect to his office. One day he received a
letter by the post, directed to himself, as the _Plumbian_ Professor.
He shook with indignation. What an insult! _Plumbian_ professor!
Leaden professor! Was it meant to insinuate that there was any thing
of a leaden quality in his lectures or writings! While thus irate, a
friend of the professor happened to drop in. He showed him the letter,
and expatiated upon the indignity of the superscription. His friend
endeavoured to convince him that it must be merely a slip of the pen.
In vain. The professor would not be pacified. "Well," said his friend,
"at any rate, it is evident the _b_ has stung you."--_Ibid_.
* * * * *
An Irish barrister had the failing of Goldsmith, in an eminent degree:
that of believing he could do every thing better than any other person.
This propensity exhibited itself ludicrously enough on one occasion,
when a violent influenza prevailed in Dublin. A friend who happened to
meet him, mentioned a particular acquaintance, and observed that he had
had the influenza very bad. "Bad!" exclaimed the other, "I don't know
how bad _he_ has had it, but I am sure I have had it quite as bad
as he, or any one else."--"Not quite, I think," replied his friend, "for
poor Mr. Gillicuddy is dead."--"Well," rejoined our tenacious optimist,
"and what of that? _I_ could have died too, if I had liked
it."--_Ibid_.
* * * * *