Little Girl. "Please, sir, I want the hundred-thousandth part of a grain of magnesia."

Young Chemist (Whose hair would certainly stand on end, were it not so tightly pommaded down, at the simplicity of the little innocent in asking for as much medicine as would kill or cure a whole regiment of soldiers). "Very sorry, miss, but we don't sell anything in such large quantities; you had better apply at Apothecaries' Hall." And he follows her to the shop-door to see whether she had brought with her a hackney-coach or a van to carry away the commodity she had inquired for!

Driver. I say, Tom, here's that there elderly lady a coming, as wanted to go with us at our first start.

Cad. Ay, well, it's no use, Bill—she's too late agen—ve're full—ALL RIGHT—GO ON!