"An arch Boy being at Table where there was a piping hot Applepye,
putting a Bit into his Mouth, burnt it so that the Tears ran down his
Cheeks. A Gentleman that sate by, ask'd him, Why he wept? Only said he,
because it is just come into my Remembrance that my poor Grandmother
died this Day Twelvemonth. Phoo! says the other, is that all? So
whipping a large Piece into his Mouth, he quickly sympathized with the
Boy; who seeing his Eyes brim-full, with a malicious Sneer Ask'd him,
Why he wept? A Pox on you, said he, because you were not hanged, you
young Dog, the same Day your Grandmother died."--_Complete London
Jester_, ed. 1771, p. 53.