Luckily for Watty, the little boy had given information of his dilemma, and the farmer to whom the bull belonged came with some of his men, and rescued him from his perilous situation.

“The gentleman will stand something to drink, I hope?” said one of the men.

“Certainly” said Watty.

“That’s no more than right,” said the farmer, “for, according to the New Police Act, we could fine you.”

“What for?”

“Why, we could all swear that when we found you, you were so elevated you could not walk!”

Hereupon his deliverers set up a hearty laugh.

Watty gave them half-a-crown; saying, with mock gravity—­

“I was on a tree, and you took me off—­that was kind!  I was in a fright, and you laughed at me; that was uncharitable.  Farewell!”

DELICACY!

Lounging in Hyde Park with the facetious B____, all on a summer’s day,
just at that period when it was the fashion to rail against the beautiful
statue, erected by the ladies of England, in honour of the Great
Captain—­

“The hero of a hundred fights,”—­

“How proudly must he look from the windows of Apsley House,” said I, “upon this tribute to his military achievements.”

“No doubt,” replied B____; and with all that enthusiasm with which one
man of mettle ever regards another!   At the same time, how lightly must
he hold the estimation of the gallant sons of Britain, when he reflects
that he has been compelled to guard his laurelled brow from the random
bullets of a democratic mob, by shot-proof blinds to his noble mansion: 
this was: 

‘The unkindest cut of all,’

after all his hair-breadth ’scapes, by flood and field, in the service. of his country, to be compelled to fortify his castle against domestic foes.”

“A mere passing cloud, that can leave no lasting impression on his great mind,” said I; “while this statue will for ever remain, a memorial of his great deeds; and yet the complaint is general that the statue is indelicate—­as if, forsooth, this was the first statue exhibited in ‘puris naturalibus’ in England.  I really regard it as the senseless cavilling of envious minds.”

“True,” said B____, laughing; “there is a great deal of railing about the
figure, but we can all see through it!” at the same time thrusting his
walking-stick through the iron-fence that surrounds the pedestal.   As for
delicacy, it is a word that is used so indiscriminately, and has so many
significations, according to the mode, that few people rightly understand
its true meaning.   We say, for instance, a delicate child; and
pork-butchers recommend a delicate pig!   Delicacy and indelicacy depend
on the mind of the recipient, and is not so much in the object as the
observer, rely on’t.   Some men have a natural aptitude in discovering the
indelicate, both in words and figures they appear, in a manner, to seek