A MODEST WIT.
A supercilious nabob of the East—Haughty, being great—purse-proud, being rich—A governor, or general, at the least,I have forgotten which—Had in his family a humble youth,Who went from England in his patron’s suit,An unassuming boy, in truthA lad of decent parts, and good repute.This youth had sense and spirit;But yet with all his sense,Excessive diffidenceObscured his merit.One day, at table, flushed with pride and wine,His Honor, proudly free, severely merry,Conceived it would be vastly fineTo crack a joke upon his secretary.“Young man,” he said, “by what art, craft, or trade,Did your good father gain a livelihood?”—“He was a saddler, sir,” Modestus said,“And in his time was reckon’d good.”“A saddler, eh! and taught you Greek,Instead of teaching you to sew!Pray why did not your father makeA saddler, sir, of you?”Each parasite, then, as in duty bound,The joke applauded, and the laugh went round.At length Modestus, bowing low,Said (craving pardon, if too free he made),“Sir, by your leave, I fain would knowYourfather’s trade!”“My father’strade! by heaven that’s too bad!My father’s trade? Why, blockhead, are you mad?My father, sir, did never stoop so low—He was a gentleman, I’d have you know.”“Excuse the liberty I take,”Modestus said, with archness on his brow,“Pray, why did not your father makeA gentleman of you?”
A supercilious nabob of the East—Haughty, being great—purse-proud, being rich—A governor, or general, at the least,I have forgotten which—Had in his family a humble youth,Who went from England in his patron’s suit,An unassuming boy, in truthA lad of decent parts, and good repute.This youth had sense and spirit;But yet with all his sense,Excessive diffidenceObscured his merit.One day, at table, flushed with pride and wine,His Honor, proudly free, severely merry,Conceived it would be vastly fineTo crack a joke upon his secretary.“Young man,” he said, “by what art, craft, or trade,Did your good father gain a livelihood?”—“He was a saddler, sir,” Modestus said,“And in his time was reckon’d good.”“A saddler, eh! and taught you Greek,Instead of teaching you to sew!Pray why did not your father makeA saddler, sir, of you?”Each parasite, then, as in duty bound,The joke applauded, and the laugh went round.At length Modestus, bowing low,Said (craving pardon, if too free he made),“Sir, by your leave, I fain would knowYourfather’s trade!”“My father’strade! by heaven that’s too bad!My father’s trade? Why, blockhead, are you mad?My father, sir, did never stoop so low—He was a gentleman, I’d have you know.”“Excuse the liberty I take,”Modestus said, with archness on his brow,“Pray, why did not your father makeA gentleman of you?”
A supercilious nabob of the East—Haughty, being great—purse-proud, being rich—A governor, or general, at the least,I have forgotten which—Had in his family a humble youth,Who went from England in his patron’s suit,An unassuming boy, in truthA lad of decent parts, and good repute.
A supercilious nabob of the East—
Haughty, being great—purse-proud, being rich—
A governor, or general, at the least,
I have forgotten which—
Had in his family a humble youth,
Who went from England in his patron’s suit,
An unassuming boy, in truth
A lad of decent parts, and good repute.
This youth had sense and spirit;But yet with all his sense,Excessive diffidenceObscured his merit.
This youth had sense and spirit;
But yet with all his sense,
Excessive diffidence
Obscured his merit.
One day, at table, flushed with pride and wine,His Honor, proudly free, severely merry,Conceived it would be vastly fineTo crack a joke upon his secretary.
One day, at table, flushed with pride and wine,
His Honor, proudly free, severely merry,
Conceived it would be vastly fine
To crack a joke upon his secretary.
“Young man,” he said, “by what art, craft, or trade,Did your good father gain a livelihood?”—“He was a saddler, sir,” Modestus said,“And in his time was reckon’d good.”
“Young man,” he said, “by what art, craft, or trade,
Did your good father gain a livelihood?”—
“He was a saddler, sir,” Modestus said,
“And in his time was reckon’d good.”
“A saddler, eh! and taught you Greek,Instead of teaching you to sew!Pray why did not your father makeA saddler, sir, of you?”
“A saddler, eh! and taught you Greek,
Instead of teaching you to sew!
Pray why did not your father make
A saddler, sir, of you?”
Each parasite, then, as in duty bound,The joke applauded, and the laugh went round.At length Modestus, bowing low,Said (craving pardon, if too free he made),“Sir, by your leave, I fain would knowYourfather’s trade!”
Each parasite, then, as in duty bound,
The joke applauded, and the laugh went round.
At length Modestus, bowing low,
Said (craving pardon, if too free he made),
“Sir, by your leave, I fain would know
Yourfather’s trade!”
“My father’strade! by heaven that’s too bad!My father’s trade? Why, blockhead, are you mad?My father, sir, did never stoop so low—He was a gentleman, I’d have you know.”
“My father’strade! by heaven that’s too bad!
My father’s trade? Why, blockhead, are you mad?
My father, sir, did never stoop so low—
He was a gentleman, I’d have you know.”
“Excuse the liberty I take,”Modestus said, with archness on his brow,“Pray, why did not your father makeA gentleman of you?”
“Excuse the liberty I take,”
Modestus said, with archness on his brow,
“Pray, why did not your father make
A gentleman of you?”
—Selleck Osborne.
Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.
—Geoffrey Chaucer.