The late musical professor, who was some six feet high, and scarcely
inferior in bulk to the famous Essex miller. He had at last so much
difficulty in getting in and out of a stage coach, that whenever he
went from Oxford to London to conduct the annual performances at St.
Paul's, for the benefit of the Sons of the Clergy, which he did for
many years _gratis_, his custom was to engage a whole seat to himself,
and when once in and seated to remain so till the end of the journey.
The fact became known to two Oxford wags, who resolved to _pose_ the
Doctor, and to that end engaged the other two inside places, and
taking care to be there before him, seated themselves in the opposite
corners, one to the right the other to the left, and there the Doctor
found them, on arriving to take his place. "How was he to dispose of
his _corpus_?" was the query: they had a clear right to their seats,
and no alternative seemed left him, as they declined moving, but to
place his head in one corner and his feet in the other. At last our
Oxonians, having fully enjoyed the _dilemma_ in which they had placed
the Doctor, consented to give way, confessed their purpose, and even
the Doctor had the good sense to laugh at his own expense.
* * * * *