Nothing can confound a wise man more than laughter from a dunce.

A sort of hostile transaction, very necessary to keep the world going, but by no means a sinecure to the parties concerned.

The world is a bundle of hay, Mankind are the asses that pull, Each tugs in a different way And the greatest of all is John Bull!

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean

And angling too, that solitary vice, What Izaak Walton sings or says: The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb, in his gullet Should have a hook, and a small trout to pull it.

And the small ripple spilt upon the beach Scarcely o'erpass'd the cream of your champagne, When o'er the brim the sparkling bumpers reach, That spring-dew of the spirit! the heart's rain! Few things surpass old wine; and they may preach Who please,—the more because they preach in vain,— Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, Sermons and soda-water the day after.

He learned the arts of riding, fencing, gunnery, And how to scale a fortress - or a nunnery.