Wit, Like The Belly, If It Be

A Rich Man Is An Honest Man--no Thanks To Him; For He Would Be A Double Knave, To Cheat Mankind When He Had No Need Of It: He Has No Occasion To Press Upon His Integrity, Nor So Much As To Touch Upon The Borders Of Dishonesty.

No Shoots, Says Friday, No Yet, Me Shoot Now, Me No Kill; Me Stay, Give You One More Laugh.

Wit, Like The Belly, If It Be Not Fed, Will Starve The Members, And Distract The Head.

Manchester, One Of The Greatest, If Not Really The Greatest Mere Village In England.

It Is Never Too Late To Be Wise.