At a club of which Jerrold was a member, a fierce Jacobite, and a
friend, as fierce, of the Orange cause, were arguing noisily, and
disturbing less excitable conversationalists. At length the Jacobite, a
brawny Scot, brought his fist down heavily upon the table, and roared at
his adversary, “I tell you what it is, sir, I spit upon your King
William!” The friend of the Prince of Orange rose, and roared back to
the Jacobite, “And I, sir, spit upon your James the Second!” Jerrold,
who had been listening to the uproar in silence, hereupon rang the bell,
and shouted “Waiter, spittoons for two!”
At an evening party, Jerrold was looking at the dancers, when, seeing a
very tall gentleman waltzing with a remarkably short lady, he said to a
friend at hand, “Humph! there’s the mile dancing with the milestone!”
An old lady was in the habit of talking to Jerrold in a gloomy,
depressing manner, presenting to him only the sad side of life. “Hang
it,” said Jerrold, one day, after a long and sombre interview, “she
would not allow that there was a bright side to the moon.”
Jerrold said to an ardent young gentleman, who burned with desire to see
himself in print: “Be advised by me, young man: don’t take down the
shutters before there is something in the windows.”
While Jerrold was discussing one day, with Mr. Selby, the vexed question
of adapting dramatic pieces from the French, that gentleman insisted
upon claiming some of his characters as strictly original creations. “Do
you remember my Baroness in _Ask No Questions_?” said Mr. Selby. “Yes,
indeed; I don’t think I ever saw a piece of yours without being struck
by your _barrenness_,” was the retort.--_Mark Lemon’s Jest-book._