The Specific Gravity Of Folly
COLERIDGE once dined in company with a grave-looking person, an
admirable listener, who said nothing, but smiled and nodded, and thus
impressed the poet with an idea of his intelligence. That man is a
philosopher, thought Coleridge. At length, towards the end of the
dinner, some apple-dumplings were placed on the table, and the listener
no sooner saw them than, almost jumping from his chair, he exclaimed,
Them's the jockeys for me!