| Citation |
RAG.777.019
6 Feb 1777:22 (4)
Boston, December 13. Bon Mot of Mr. ----, a man rather
addicted to dissipation. Mr. ---- happened one morning to
pop in upon an old acquaintance, and perceiving him booted
and spurred, and ready to take horse, familiarly accosted
him with "What road?" His friend replied that he was going
in search of a parcel of Gold-Finches (meaning a parcel of
guineas.) Gold Finches! Gold Finches! (cried the man of
dissipation, not seeming to comprehend his friend's meaning)
Right: They are birds of most enchanting music; I have had
several of them in my possession, but I could never get one
of them tam'd: some how or another they always made their
escape.
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