The Comic almanack

lilt,

Nv,

too
--------------- . . .
............... ............

Mniversitt
of lnortha
Iitbrarui

05-p

SPECIAL
COLLECTIONS
BOOK ART,

,he (ift iof

Virginia Graham

3467 CRUIKSHANK IC T1F-T Cu:,mir Aminrmink. ISJ1.5. I xU.IM5 2 Ir1I (2y .o nN
toy 1912 A. or".. M, ~ .00
The abrive 2 s m~ in ia,' ,,Jpritc-le mh r~c, ,t 'ib. 'w.'e .4I,- wd/h i j /
illa.y4raliwn. by~ (Oorinl C'~,,h2i api4 of&.,.; I. -

4- U'r

j-
0' v

NOTICE.

The FIRST SERIES of THE COMIC ALMANACK"
from 1835 to 1843, a nine years' gathering of the BEST
HUMOUR, the WITTIEST SAYINGS, the Drollest Quips, and the
Best Things of THACKERAY, HOOD, MAYHEW, ALBERT SMITH,
A'BECKETT, ROBERT BROUGH, with nearly one thousand Wood-
cuts and Steel Engravings by the inimitable CRUIKSHANK, HINE,
LANDELLS-

may now be had of the Publisher, crown 8vo, 600 pp.,
price 7s. 6d.

SThe First Series and the present (or Second Series) comprise
THE COMPLETE WORK, extendingfrom 1835 to 1853.

OS- 3

-LL

5,,,;,\

C~IL~iLO,~

~k 4~

`:. :~
i~ S:-- ~

:-*1.

THE

COMIC

ALMANAC.

2ND SERIES, 1844-1853.

~-, -IF ~ -;~~~---- ---_ IU
;r---i~--~I-

7-

-P1(OIABULY, f}TE CTS oE OVER YTMAL MIiTIOQom1-4ioLr5ir the FGiAr Sea. 'vmit. tn n,-,& Oin6 Ott rVars eex-_o ct4twe o8 Austta.Lt& Li

-- -- --- ----- -

- .-';- =4-

i).

----~---;~~p~ ~

~-~--~---~-~-I_~;~

-7

A

-~M~.4
11

P' "~B \_
''''

j5-

THE

COMIC ALMANAC

AN EPHEMERIS IN JEST AND EARNEST, CONTAINING

MERRY TALES, HUMOROUS POETRY,
QUIPS, AND ODDITIES.

BY
THACKERAY, ALBERT SMITH, GILBERT A BECKETT,
T-HE BROTHERS MAYHEW.

:tI T'

"THE APPROACH OF BLUCHER.-INTREPID ADVANCE OF THE 1ST FOOT."

igity mang unbnkb llastrations
4B Y GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.
AND OTHER ARTISTS.

SECOND SERIES, 1844-1853.

LONDON:
JOHN CAMDAN HOTTEN, 74 & 75, PICCADILLY.
'NEW YOK : SCRIBNER. WELFORD AND CO.

THE

COMIC ALMANAC

FOR 1847.

THE COMIC ALMANAC.

DER BAILIFFE JAGER:
AN ENGLISH BALLAD IN THE GERMAN STYLE.
WHO is it that paces that street o'er and o'er ?
Why keeps he his eye ever fix'd on that door ?
What seeketh he there, at an hour like this ?
Bears he tidings of woe P-bears he tidings of bliss ?
No tidings of bliss does the stranger convey;
But for a bold Captain be bears a fi: fa:
And he paces that street, and he eyes that thresh-h6ld;
For he seeketh to capture that Captain so bold.
And where is the Captain he seeketh to seize P
At the "-CoAL HOLE," he taketh his grog, and his ease.
God send he may stop there until morning comes!
For God shield the Captain to-night from the Bums!
But hark in the distance, a footfall occurs;
And clinketty-clink sounds the jingling of spurs;
And then the street echoes with La-li-e-tee!"
Now God shield the Captain! for sure it is he.
And he reacheth the door, and he knocketh threat,
With a thundering rat-a-tat-tat-a-tat-tat!
And he giveth the bell such a furious ring
That the street rings again, with its cling-a-ling-ling !
Oh Captain bold Captain now hie thee away!
For near draws that Bum, with his fearful fi: fa:
Hurrah! now he sees him as nearer he steals;
And away hies the Captain with the Bum at his heels.
Then, hurrying-scurrying-the Captain doth fly;
And following-hollowing-the Bum rusheth by.
Away! and away! thro' each square, and each street!
Though fleet runs the Captain, the Bum runs as fleet.
On! on! my bold Captain, see, help is at hand;
For lo! in the distance, appears a cab stand.
Quick he's in one, and off, at a galloping pace;
Quick! The Bum's in another cab, giving him chase.
Then, "haste thee, my Cabman!" the Captain did say;
"The Bailiff behind has for me a fi: fa:
'Tis in Middlesex though! so there's Gold, if you'll hurry;
Yes, Gold if you drive me now safe into Surrey.

F1847.

DER BAILIFFE JAGER.

And, Haste thee, my Cabman !" the Bailiff did say,
" For the Captain before us I've got a fi: fa:
'Tis in Middlesex though so there's Gold, if you hurry;
Yes, Gold! if I catch him before he's in Surrey."
Then gee up! and gee on they go tearing along,
Now jerking the reins-and now plying the thong;
And the horses they bound away over the ground:
And the mud flies about, as the wheels fly around.
Bump! bump! over the stones-slosh! slosh! over the wood;
Whack! whack! goeth each whip-quick! quick! quicker who
could P
And clattering-spattering-onward they go,
"Hark forward hark forward! for Surrey halloo !"
Right and left, flieth past every gaslight, how fast!
How fast! right and left, too, each street flieth past!
The shops, and the houses, like lightning, are gone,
As the horses keep galloping, galloping on.
See yonder! see yonder's a smalLbreakfast stall;
Have a care! have a care !" or the Siloupe must fall:
Round the corner, unheeding, the vehicles dash:
Crash! down come the coffee and cups with a smash.
And still they go pacing-and racing-and chasing;
And the Bum still the steps of the Captain is tracing:
Away! and away! through each square, and each street!
Though fleet rides the Captain, the Bum rides as fleet.
On! on!" shouts the Captain: On! on!" shouts the Bum;
I promised thee Gold: come! I'll double the sum;
So, on! push along! my good trusty Jehu!
On! on! to the bridge that is called Waterloo."
Now, galloping fast, by St. Giles's they've past;
The Captain still first, and the Bailiff still last.
Now, through High Street they pace-now, down Cross Street
they race:
With the Captain ahead, and the Bum giving chase.
Then Long Acre's clear'd-and then Bow Street is near'd-
Then the Theatre Royal Covent Garden appear'd-
And then quickly in view came the Lyceum too-
Hurrah! now they're close to the bridge Waterloo.

THE COMIC ALMANAC.

So, gee up! and gee on! they go tearing along;
Now jerking the reins-and now plying the thong;
And the horses they bound away over the ground;
And the mud flies about, as the wheels fly around.

Bump! bump! over the stones-slosh! slosh! over the wood;
Whack! whack! goeth each whip-quick! quick! quicker
who could P
And clattering-spattering-onward they go:
" Hark forward! hark forward! for Surrey halloo !"

Now there's no time to wait; and see! merciless fate!
At the bridge a curst wagon doth block up the gate.
'Tis ruin to stay!-but one moment's delay,
And the Captain he falls to the Bailiff a prey.

But quickly the wight from the cab doth alight,
Pays the toll, and on foot then continues his flight;
Still ripe for the race, the Bum bounds from his place,
Clears the gate, and on foot too continues the chase.

Then huzz and huzza! they go tearing away,
Now out in the road-now upon the pave:
And, racing-and chasing-still onward they go;
" Hark forward! hark forward! for Surrey halloo!"

Now the goal draweth nigh-now the toll is hard by;
And now, how they scamper!-and now, how they fly!
And now, how they hurry !-and now, how they scurry!
And, hip! hip! hurrah! now the Captain's in Surrey.

Then the Captain turned round to the Limb of the Law;
And he chaff'd, and he laugh'd at his craft, Haugh! haugh!
haugh!
And says he, To catch me, sure the Bum must be cunning;
For the constable I have a knack of outrunning."

That the Sheriffs in one county cannot arrest
The bodies" that bide in another's contest;
So that Bailiff no longer that Captain can worry,
For the Bum is in Middlesex-the body's in Surrey.

.14

A-7
,p

WHERE CAN THE POLICE BE?

1847.] 143

THE BLUEBOTTLE THAT DESTROY ALL THE COLD MEAT.
CURIOUS EXHIBITION.
NEVER SEEN IN THIS COUNTRY.
The Proprietors of the EGYPTrIAN HALL are happy
to state tllat they have made arrangements with the
authorities of Scotland Yard, and, after considerable
difficulty, procured theservices of
THE INVISIBLE POLICEMAN.
A NATURAL CURIOSITY,
TO WHOM THOUSANDS HAVE ALREADY
PAID, AND
NOBODY HAS EVER YET SEEN.
THIS RETIRING INDIVIDUAL
WILL, STRANGE TO SAY, Two th
Two things equally difficult
ANSWER CIVILLY ANY QUESTION THAT to be met with.
MAY BE PUT TO HIM;
HE WILL
TELL ANY PERSONS WHAT THEY HAD FOR DINNER THE DAY BEFORE;
HE WILL
NAME THE COLD MEAT DAYS IN EACH FAMILY;
AND
STATE THE COLOUR OF THE HAIR AND EYES
OF'THE FEMALE SERVANTS IN EVERY
ESTABLISHMENT;
LIKEWISE
WHETHER THE MAIDS FIND THEIR
OWN TEA AND SUGAR;
Indeed, it will be found that this Wonderful Creature -
POSSESSES A KNOWLEDGE
EXTENDING OVER THE WHOLE ABEA OF THE
METROPOLIS. The Kitchen Cupid.
"'Tis not a wonder:
'Tis Nature."-TIM~s.

The Modern Macheath; or, how
THE COOK AND HER FAIfHIUL ATTENDANT. happy could I be with either?

THE COMIC ALMANAC.

SAY YOU DID IT!"

A ROMANCE OF SMILES AND TITTERS.

TITTER THE FIRST.
THAT ordinary-looking middle-aged gentleman, who is just emerging from that
Jeweller's shop, is Signor Goffoni. He has been there to purchase a pair of ear-
rings for his pretty young wife, with which he purposes to bribe her into good-
humour with him again. For, to say the truth, the happy couple have lately been
living on the usual matrimonial terms which follow the union of Signoras, who
are scarcely out of their teens, with Signors, who are half way through their 'tys,
And this morning the conjugal breezes had swollen into a perfect hymeneal
hurricane. It had blown divorces and separate maintenance. The Signora had
gone into the customary hysterics, and the Signor had left the house with that
violent bang of the street-door which is the especial property of enraged husbands.
And "the cause-the cause" was precisely the same as made Mr. Othello deter-
mine to put an extinguisher upon his better-half, instead of his night-lamp. The
green-eyed monster.had kittened his horrid suspicions in Signor Goffoni's bosom,
and had lapped up all the milk of human kindness in the dairy of his heart. He
had accidentally discovered a billet-something more than a doux-addressed to
his black-eyed young wife, from a gentleman calling himself the Marchese di
Castellinaria, and which expressed a regard for her that-tested by the very deli-
cate thermometer of the Signor's jealousy-did appear to him not quite so tepid
as mere friendship would dictate. And he had not scrupled to say as much to
the black eyes he had taken for better or for worse. Whereupon the said ebon
optics had looked scissors, though they'd used none-had vowed eternal separation
-usque ad mensam et torum-and wound up with those effective convulsions of
which married ladies generally keep a plentiful supply, ready for use. Jealousy,
however, had galvanized the iron of the Signor's heart, and made it no longer
susceptible of being acted upon by the salt water of his wife's eyes; so, as we said
before, he bounced out of the house with a bang like a human cracker.
Long before evening, however, Goffoni had relented; he felt convinced that he
had wronged his dear little wife by his unjust suspicions, and arrived at the sage
conclusion that he was a brute and she was an angel; so that an hour before his
usual time for quitting business he hurried off to the nearest Jeweller's to buy her
a pair of earrings, determined to hasten home and shed over her the diamond
drops of repentance. But on arriving at his domicile, he found the dark-eyed
young partner of his bosom absent from home. Could his unkind treatment have
driven her from his roof? Tie very thought was stilettoes. He rang furiously
and inquired of the servant concerning her mistress. She had quitted the house
about half an hour ago, leaving directions that the letter which the maid then
presented should be delivered to the Signor immediately on his return. He
seized it. It was unaddressed, and ran as follows:-
After your insulting conduct I can no longer consent to the continuance of
our acquaintance. I must beg, therefore, that henceforth we be as Strangers;
and that you will never again dare to offend me with the protestation of your
regard, which it is utterly impossible for me further to acknowledge.
CARLOTTA."
"Gone! gone!" groaned Goffoni; and he sunk overwhelmed upon the sofa,
and buried his face in his hands. Presently he started up again-buttoned his
coat vehemently-knocked his hat on his head-and dashed from the house with
a wild look of despair and prussic acid.
That miserable-looking middle-aged gentleman, seated on that stone in the
heart of that wood, is Signor Goffoni. And that small phial, which he takes from
his waistcoat-pocket, is labelled LAUDANUM 1" He has sought out this secluded
spot, and purchased this poisonous potion, to put a premature finis" to his
wretched biography. For what is the world now to him?" he says-" a wilder-

1847.] "SAY YOU DID IT!" 145

ness-a desert. He has lost the angel who made it a paradise; and as he always
felt convinced that there was not another woman like her upon earth, why should
he go dawdling on alone to the grave? Nol he is resolved Bereft of his.Car-
lotta, he cares not to live, and fears not to die. She has bidden adieu to him, so
he will bid adieu to the world."
With this brief oration the woe-begone Goffoni drew the stopper from the
phial, and swallowed its contents.
No sooner had he drunk off the deadly draught than a Signor, habited in a
capacious cloak, started up from behind the stone on which Goffoni was seated,
and inquired whether he would save the life of a fellow-creature ?
"I save the life of a fellow-creature !" gasped Goffoni, dropping the empty phial
with amazement from his hand ; I am a dying man myself!"
Yes I know that," replied the Signor in the cloak, and that is the cause of
my making the request. The fact is, the other gentleman, whose life is in danger,
is not quite so tired of his existence as you seem to be of yours. And since you
are determined on going out of the world, you may as well leave it with the grace
of a good action, and let your death be the salvation of his life."
Goffoni, who was now ready to clutch at any straw that appeared likely to
save him from sinking in the next world, simply asked, How that could be ?"
Oh, never mind about that," returned he in the cloak; only you consent to
do it, and I'll soon tell you how. Come! what do you say? Recollect charity
covers a multitude of sins,' and you've got a pretty good lot here to answer for,
certainly."
Goffoni felt that he had, and being anxious now to obtain absolution by any
means, he, not very reluctantly, promised to do what the stranger desired.
Whereupon the Signor in the cloak informed Goffoni that, finding himself rather
short of cash, he had requested the loan of some gold from a drover whom he had
met that evening in the forest; but that the drover had not only in the most un-
gentleman-like manner refused to accommodate him, but had even been base enough
to doubt the honesty of his intentions. That this had so exasperated him in the
cloak that he had knocked the scoundrel down, and borrowed of him all the
money he possessed. That the cries of the drover had brought the soldiers to his
assistance, when the Signor in the cloak was obliged to run for his life; but that
in his flight he had dropped his hat on the road. That he had only just succeeded
in avoiding his pursuers by secreting himself behind that stone, when Signor
Goffoni had come up and seated himself upon it. "However," added he, "the
soldiers can'tbe far off; and when they find I've given them the slip they will b3
certain to return, for I know them of old. So that, you see, what I want of you
now, my friend, is, should the rogues come this way again, and question you about
that nonsensical piece of business, that you'll just have the kindness-since it can't
make any difference to you in your present situation-to say you did it."
Goffoni, when he heard what was required of him, hardly liked the office he had
undertaken to perform. But as it certainly could not make any difference to him
in his present situation, and as he had given his promise, he told the gentleman in
the cloak he would be as good as his word and say he did it. The stranger
thanked Goffoni heartily, called him his preserver, and many other equally com-
plimentary names, and was about hurrying off, when a sudden thought detained
him, "Stay I" he exclaimed, "this cloak will make your confession all the more
veritable, while the possession of the identical purse I took from that rascally
drover will put the affair beyond the shadow of a suspicion." And so saying, he
threw the one hastily over the back of Goffoni, and, having divested the other of
its contents, slipped the empty leather bag into the breeches-pocket of that poor
gentleman, who, by this time, lay writhing 'on his stomach, under the painful
effects of the deadly draught he had swallowed.
'! And now once more, Addio !" exclaimed the stranger, putting on the hat of
Signor G. as a substitute for the one he had dropped on the road; "and mind !" he
added, I rely upon you to-say you did it 1"
[SECOND TITTER, page 147.]
L

146 THE COMIC ALMANAC. [1847.

BLIND BOTS BUFF AT THE LADIES' SCHOOL.
ALETTER FROM "LA NATIVE DE PARIS," AT MISS THIMBLEBEE'S ESTA-
BLISHMENT FOR YOUNG LADIES, TO HER MOTHER IN YORKSHIBE.
Belle Vue House, Blackheath, Judy Swore.
i MA SHARE MARE,-I take up my plue to
Sinform you that this leaves me in a state of
perfect convalescence, or as we say in French,
sar var beang havoc more, as I hope it does
haroc twore. I pass very well now for un
N attif de Parry. I have cabed back my
S' front hair, a la Shinoars; so that I have "
f iutorfayIle hairFransay. And, yetoh! ma
share Mare, say treest !---set hawreeble, to be
Bringing her ulpin thhwayheshouldgo. compelled to deny the land of one's
birth, and all poor le daygootang argong
de set mizzyrarble V! What, after all, too, is 201. a-year poor une Damn kom
more? A paltry pittance !-vollar 2. Apprepo, I must tell you of an awkward
wrongconter which happened last Macready Mattang, to Hiss Thimblebee and
lay Demmozel, As we were promenaying on the Heath we came across dew June
Ofishya de Woolwich. They were dreadfully impudent and frightfully handsome
-Oh, ma Mare! Kell bell Ome I Kelljolly ltoostarch Kell
bows U! I think if you were to send me the Pork Pies
Syou talked of I could keep them in my Shannbrer
a Kooshay, and eat them when I went to
bed, dong mong Lee-as we have no pastry
here but rice puddings- Say malle-
roeze I-Ness Pa?
And now, Addo, ma tray share 11$
M1are t I have to put the b
Parlour Boarders che-
f Vtux ong pappya. So Pa
plooze a presong from
Getting her French by leart. Ydtrer Ammeroose Feel, The Heart Breaker.
CRNOLrIB nE CORSET, nay SA~AH SKEGGS."
Morel- I ave to put t--
Palor oades he

THE BEST WAY OF ADVERTISING A LADIBS' SCHOOL*

IL

THE SCHOLASTIC HEN AND HER CHICKENS.

Mifs Thimblebee Ioquitur. lmuyoaur adr tolkerwiaymyde ars. i rkerea two horndlyandsomeOffi~ers conuiy.

~~1
~3; ;hg-'T-h

~5~

---"-i-

-=-~U

+. IP*. I

"SAY YOU DID IT!"

A ROMANCE OF SMILES AND TITTERS.

TITTER THE SECOND.
THE sound of the stranger's retiring footsteps had scarcely died upon the ear,
when, as he had predicted, the soldiers came up, led by the drover, of whom the
late proprietor of the Mantello had spoken.
I tell you it's hereabouts I missed him," said the owner of the lost purse.
"And ecco!" he exclaimed, as his eyes fell on the prostrate figure of Goffoni, en-
, veloped in the cloak, "by all the Saints I here lies the rascal, shamming asleep,
too, as I live!"
The sleep, however, was no make-believe on the part of poor Goffoni, who,
under the growing influence of the opiate, was rapidly sinking into the joint
embraces of Messrs. Morpheus and Mors, and had just commenced nodding off-
to Death.
"Come, get up here!" shouted one of the soldiers, giving Goffoni a kick that
even in his drowsy state had the effect of making him open his eyes. "Get up, I
say! We want you about a little bit of highway robbery that you've been having
a finger in this evening-do you hear'" And the military querist punctuated
the ribs of the wretched Signor with a heavy note of interrogation from his regu-
lation-boot.
Yes, t hear I" replied the agonized Goffoni; I know! a highway robbery! I
did it! I did it "
Mark that, gentlemen I" said the drover to the soldiers. The fellow con-
fesses he did it; mark that !"
Oh, you did it, did you?" said the soldier. "Come, then, you must go with
us. So quick I stir yourself, I say." Arid again the regulation-boot hammered
away at the sides of the unfortunate Goffoni.
"Do let me die here, do!" implored the moribund Signor G.
"Die here returned the man of war. "No, no! you'll have to die in a rather
more public place than this, I'm thinking. But come! we're not going to be
played the fool with in this manner. Get up, I tell you once more!" So saying,
the soldier took the prostrate Signor by the collar and set him on his legs.
Oh why wont you let me be quiet ?" groaned Goffoni; I've taken poison-
indeed I have I"
Taken poison !" the soldier exclaimed, with a sneer; taken a purse, you
mean, and it will prove just as fatal to you, I'll be sworn. However, we're not to
be gulled by any such flams, don't think it. So let's see what you've got in your
pockets. Oh! a pair of diamond earrings, eh ? Very pretty indeed! the produce
of some other robbery, no doubt A gold watch, and ditto snuff-box! Equally -
honestly come by, I'll wager. A good stroke of business you've been doing this
evening, my man! And here's a silk purse, with lots of money in it; and here's
a leather one without a soldo."
"The leather one's mine!" cried the drover; "but it was full when the
scoundrel took it from me."
"Of course it was! and the rogue's emptied the contents of the one into the
other. But that don't matter-the mere finding of the purse upon him is quite
enough to take the breath out of his body. So, come! give over this shamming,'
continued the soldier, violently shaking the drowsy Signor, who was again nod-
ding under the somnorific effects of the laudanum. We're too old birds to be
caugh tby such chaff as this, I can tell you, So on to prison with you-get on."
Whereupon two of the soldiers placed themselves, one on either side of the ill-
fated Goffoni, and commenced dragging him by the collar to the Casa di Corro-
zione, while the two others attended him in the rear, and by the aid of their
bayonets, applied to that part of his person where a gentleman's honour is sup-
L2

148 THE COMIC ALMANAC. [1847.

posed to reside, kept continually dissipating the incipient slumbers of the somno-
lent Signor, and goading him like an untractable donkey on to the nearest house
of entertainment for brigands and patriots.
*

S *

The bayonets of the soldiers were so efficacious in counteracting the somniferous
tendency of the opiate which Signor Goffoni had swallowed, that by the time he
had reached the gates of the Casa di Correzione, a distance of at least five miles
from the scene of his capture, the exercise had done him so much good that it had
" worked off" all his drowsiness, and he was, the morning after, in the most
miserable state of perfect convalescence.
Goffoni instantly began protesting his innocence; but the incredulous jailor
assured him it was to no purpose, and that he might look upon himself as a dead
man ; for that his own confession, let alone the circumstantial evidence, was
quite enough to settle his business.
The wretched Signor called himself a fool, an idiot, a jackass, a nincompoop,
and a volume of other titles equally complimentary to his intellect, for ever having
consented to take another man's crime upon himself-as he pledged his honour to
the jailor he had done in the present instance.
The jailor, however, was a man of too great experience to place much faith in
the honour of gentlemen charged with highway robbery. And so to the Signor's
asseveration, he replied with a knowing wink-" Gammon Well, I've heard
many lame defences in my time, but, hang me! if that isn't the most rickety
concern I ever listened to. I should like to know the judge," he continued, that
you think would swallow such indigestible stuff as that. For everyone is aware
that gentlemen in your line of business an't quite such born donkeys as to take
other men's sins upon their shoulders, when they've always got a pretty tidy load
of their own. So if you follow my advice, my man," considerately added the
jailor, "you'll plead guilty like a Christian, and then, perhaps, you may be lucky
enough to get off with the galleys for life."
Goffoni, however, finding his declarations of innocence made no impression upon
the officers of justice, determined at length upon seeking the advice and consola-
tion of some counsel learned in the chicanery of the law. But the Gentleman in
Black afforded him little comfort; for though he himself, he said, had no doubt of
the truth of the Signor's strange statement, still, he thought that Goffoni would
find it extremely difficult to make a court of justice believe that human stupidity
could go to such lengths. And he was afraid that his unfortunate client must
make up his mind to the worst for that, of late, the robberies in the neighbour-
hood had so much increased that the authorities had resolved to make an example
of the very next culprit.
Whereupon Goffoni again declared that he was a fool, an idiot, &c., for ever
having consented to stand as godfather to a foot-pad, and take the transgressions
of a gentleman with a passion for highway robbery, upon himself. And he tore
his toupde and he thumped his cranium, as though he were trying to cudgel his
brains fbr allowing him to-say be did it.

rTHIRD TrrER, page 150.]

THE DESECRATION OF THE BRIGHT POKER.

1847-.

BRITANNIA DISTRIBUTING THEE BRIGHT POKER OF CIVILIZATION TO THE SAVAGES.

FOR THE PROPAGATION OF CIVILIZATION,
AND THE HANDBOOK OF ETIQUETTE
ALL OVER THE WTVORLD.
THE Distingud Committee of this Society,
which has for its noble object the elevation of
the poor degraded Savage, and the dissemi-
nation of horse-hair petticoats and finger-
glasses among all the dark members of the
human family have published their Report.
The Report states the Committee have dis-
The Bright Stove; or the Modern tribute to their coloured relations their sis-
Englishman's Fireside. ter Agogos's celebrated Code of Good Man-
ners ;" as well as the instructive little tract "How to Live well upon a Hundred
a-year;" which have effected a great moral change. And the Committee are
now engaged in preparing the "Savage's own Edition" of The Guide to the
Toilet," and have made arrangements with a philanthropic Parisian Milliner
for the weekly publication of a Courier des Dames Noires" in the wilds of
Africa and America.
In Domestic Economy they have succeeded in introducing the Bright Poker
to the hearths of the benighted savages, and so impressing them with the noble
truth that there are Pokers for use and Pokers for ornament. They have not,
however, as yet, been able to confer upon them the en-
joyment of the Silver Fork; but still they have accus-
S tomed them to the use of that article in Britannia Metal,
which having, as a moral writer justly observes, quite
the appearance of Silver, lends to the dinner-table all the
show of plate.
In the article of Food the poor things have much im-
proved. They have now given over eating their meat
raw, while some families had advanced in Civilization so
far as to have fed Turkies before the Fire, until they
died from enlargement of the Liver, so
that they might be able to partake of the
A Case of Real Distress. luxury of the "Patd de Foie Gras."

THE WIVES OF EBN(LAND SWEARING TO PROTECT UNSULLIED THE BRIGHT POKER.

THE COMIC ALMANAC.

"SAY YOU DID IT!"

A ROMANCE OF SMILES AND TITTERS.

TITTER THE THIRD.
GOFrONI, however, though he hardly relished the idea of bidding adieu to the
world, and a generous Italian public, on the boards of a scaffold-and which he
now felt there was something stronger than a mere probability of his doing-at
length began to contemplate his lot with all the melodramatic magnanimity of
injured innocence. And though he had but little of the martyr in his constitu-
tion, yet as Fate had cast him the part, he was determined to fudge up as much
stoical sternne-s as his nature would allow him to throw into the character. Be-
sides, deserted by his Carlotta, he had still no great desire to continue a solitary
unit on the slate of creation; so that, to use his own expression, it mattered not
when he was sponged out. What was the world to him ?" again he asked him-
self, and again he gave himself precisely the same answer, videlicet,-" a wilder-
ness, a desert!" Existence, he said, be viewed as a piece of burnt rag, with but
a few bright specks'flitting across its dark surface; and lie cared not how soon
"the parson and the clerk" appeared to announce the departure of his vital spark.
But Goffoni had no sooner made up his mind to play the unmitigated hero to
the last, than the presence of her whose absence had given him such supernatural
fortitude thawed all the artificial ice of his stoicism, and made the hero melt into
the man.
Yes I the dark-eyed young partner of his bosom and four-poster-she whom he
believed had left him for ever for the Marchese di Castellinaria, had come to con-
sole him in his affliction and Goffoni, though he could have been a Regulus
without his Carlotta, felt, when he saw her, all his magnanimity ooze out of his eyes.
"Oh! Bartolo! Barrolo!" sobbed the Signora, "if I hadn't seen it in all the
papers I should never have dreamt of finding you here. You can't tell what I've
suffered on your account !"
Oh Carlotta! Carlotta !" groaned Goffoni: and what have I not suffered on
your account? But for you, alas I should not have been here."
For me-e !" hysterically exclaimed Carlotta. Oh don't say so How could
I possibly have anything to do with it?"
Didn't you tell me," inquired the woe-begone Signor, "that you'd leave me-
for ever ? You did You know you did!"
"Yes but I'd done so a hundred times before," retorted Mrs. Goffoni; and
I thought you knew women better than to believe such things."
Nor should I have been such a booby as to do so," remarked Mr. G., "if you
hadn't written me that horrid letter."
"Letter!" cried Carlotta. "Oh I see it all now! I do That letter was in-
tended for the Marchese di Castellinaria, and you-you-wretched-stupid man-
you thought it was meant for yourself."
Intended for that cursed Marchese !" shouted Signor Goffoni. Then why the
deuce did you leave the house, and tell the maid to give it to me ?"
Oh I thought it would make you so happy and comfortable !" exclaimed his
miserable little wife. I thought it would please you so on your return home to
find how I'd answered the fellow's impertinent note."
"Then! oh dear I oh dear !" replied Goffoni; "why couldn't you have shown
it to me yourself?"
Why, because you were so cruel, and so put out about that note in the morn-
ing, that I didn't like to see you again until I had made you acquainted with
what I had done. So I left the copy for you to read, while I went out to post the
original."
Goffoni now saw through the mistake as clearly as his better half; and again
he railed at the limited extent of his intellectual faculties, applying to himself the
same complimentary terms as he had previously used. And then he kissed his
Carlotta, and called her his own blessed angel of a wife, and himself her own
cursed fool of a husband; and gave vent to his feelings-which were now a kind

1847.] "SAY YOU DID IT!" 15I

of a piebald of grief and joy-in a manner that makes a bankrupt of description,
and forces history to take the benefit of the insolvent act. For he plainly per-
ceived that, without any real cause, he had taken poison and a highway robbery
upon himself; and that he would be forced to separate from his Carlotta at a
time when he had no desire to leave her, and by a species of divorce for which he
had now lost all relish.
The sorry Signor then recited to his wondering little wife the tale which we
have before told the reader (only not quite so cleverly as ourselves); and on
showing her the cloak that he had received from the stranger, his distress of mind
was in no way relieved by hearing his Carlotta-who could swear to the clasp
and collar-peremptorily pronounce it to be the property of the very Marchese
from whom he dated all his troubles. So that he now saw, in addition to his
miseries, not only that he had saved the life of him who was the primary cause of
all his jealousy, but that he was about to die outright for the crimes of the very
man whose peccadilloes had nearly put an end to his existence by poison before.
Yes! facetious reader, it was even so! The Signora's gallant Marchese was
none other than the Signor's ungallant stranger, a gentleman better known in the
romance of highway robbery as VIRTUOSO, the brigand! and who, in the glowing
language of one of the many instructive novels, of which lie afterwards became
the hero, was no vulgar Freebooter." No i his was a spirit too proud to beg,
too chivalrous to work, and too generous to trade. If he took from the rich he
freely gave to the poor; and if, in the pursuance of his romantic vocation, he was
compelled, in self-defence, to sacrifice the life of some obstinate victim, he ever
after endeavoured to remove tile stain of the blood from his soul by the scouring
drops of contrition. Nor was his love of the poor greater than his love of-
WoMAN To her his lustrous eye and soft guitar-like voice, coupled with the
perils of his adventurous life, had ever a magical charm. He was not merely the
Freebooter of Lucre, but-the Brigand of the Heart! And if his passion was of
too fickle and roving a nature, at least in extenuation it may be pleaded that he
never parted from the object of his love without first abstracting from her some
article ofjewellery or plate, by which to treasure up her remembrance.
However, to return to poor Goffoni. The day of his trial at length arrived. On
being placed in the dock it seemed to him as if he were standing on the doorstep
of Eternity; for reflection and everybody had conspired to assure him of the utter
hopelessness of his case. And when, to his infinite horror, he heard the drover,
without the least hesitation, swear that he, the Signor, was the man who had
taken his purse, Goffoni felt as though his shoulders had already served his head
with notice to quit. The judge, however, finding that the case turned on a point
of disputed identity, ordered the prisoner to put on the hat which had been
dropped on the road. Goffoni did so, and was suffused with a cold perspiration
on finding that it fitted him to a hair. He was then directed to endorse his body
with the cloak, which, alas also suited the poor devil as though it had been made
to measure. The drover looked at him for a second, and then swore with even
greater certainty than before that he was the identical person who had robbed
him. Goffoni now saw that the sands of his last moments were fast running
through the egg-boiler of his existence, when-as the gentlemen of the Italian
press afterwards expressed it-" a stranger, dressed in the first style of fashion,
rose from the body of the court, and requested to be permitted to put on the
articles in which the prisoner had just appeared." Having obtained the sanction
of the judge, he attired himself in the cloak and hat, and demanded of the drover,
on his oath, whether he, the stranger, was not the party who had taken his purse?
The drover eyed the stranger from top to toe, and then, after a little deliberation,
swore even still more emphatically that he was. Whereupon the stranger pointed
out to the judge that since the drover had sworn with equal certainty to two
different parties as the culprit, it was clear that he might be mistaken in both.
A word to the wise is sufficient, So, reader, if your skull be not as thick as a
bombshell, it is hardly necessary for us to tell you that Goffoni was acquitted-
that it was Virtuoso, the brigand, who procured his acquittal; and that the Moral
of all this is (for we must be moral to the last''), never take the good or bad action
of another to yourself, nor be shabby or silly enough to-" SAY You DID rr."

THE COMIC ALMANAC.

BLBGANT EXTRACTS FROM THE LAST NEW BURLCbQUt .

A BATTLE WITH BILLINGSGATE.

SUGGESTED BY THAT OF BLENHEIM.

IT was the Christmas Holidays,
And seated in the Pit,
A Father saw the new Burlesque,
That was so full of wit.
And by him sat-in Slang unskill'd-
His pretty little girl, Clotilde.
S She heard some ladies" on the Stage
Say they would "cut their sticks 1"
And one in male attire declare
That she'd "go it like bricks."
She ask'd her Father what were bricks P"
And what they meant by "cut their sticks F"
The Father heard the audience laugh,
As at some witty stroke; ,
And the old man he scratch'd his head,
For he couldn't see the joke.
"I don't know what they mean," said he,
But sure 'tis some facetim."

SAnd then she heard one, nearly nude,
Say something else about
"Has your fond mother sold her mangle P
And does she know you're out ?'
And when the people laughed, cried she,
"Oh, Pa there's more facetie l"
And then the little maiden said, H
"Now, tell me why, Papa,
That lady ask'd him if the mangle
Was sold by his Mamma P"
"I can't tell why, my dear," said he,
"Though, of course, 'tis some facetim."

But when she saw the lady's fingers
Unto her nose applied, Burl
"Why, 'tis a very vulgar thing 1" o
The little maiden cried.
"The papers all, my child, agree,
'Tis brimful of facet im
"And everybody says the Piece
With brilliant wit is filled;"
And what is wit, my dear Papa F"
Quoth innocent Clotilde.
the "Why, that I cannot say," quoth he,
S But wit is not-vulgarity."

[1847.

esque standing
n its merits.

Billingsgate in
ascendant

m '- :i .-
4i 1 -,,_
T. -

C-i--p----L- --

THE STAG, THE BULL,AND THE BEAR.
(A Railway Fable.)

ali

THE STAG, THE BULL, AND THE BEAR.
A RAILWAY FABLE.
A STAG there was-as I've heard tell,
Who in an attic us'd to dwell,
Or rather-to use a fitter phrase-
Who in an attic us'd to graze;
And being blest, like many I know,
With little Conscience, and less Rhino,
Took to that frailest of all frail ways,
And wrote for shares in all the Railways;
Applied, without the least compunction,
For Seventy five in each new "Junction,"
And gen'rally-the more's the pity-
Got thirty shares from each Committee,
Whereof though it for sale was not meant,
He sold the Letter of Allotment.
But this he did, forsooth, because it
Said something rude about Deposit.
Now he'd applied, and-what was better-
This Stag had just received a letter,
Allotting him some shares, then far
Above the Railway Zero-" par."
How kind of them," says he, to gi'e me 'em,
Since they're at such a whacking premium!
'Tis to my soul 'a flatt'ring unction,'
Oh Good ST. JAMEs' and ST. GILES' JuNGTno."
And then the Stag went cap'ring down,
Like many another "buck on town,"
To where the common herd" resort,
The stony field hight Capel Court,
And where the half-starved hinds are seen,
Trying to nibble all the Green."
But soon to this fam'd cervine quarter
There came a Bull intent on slaughter,
And finding that the Stag I tell of
Had got some shares which were thought well of,
The Bull began to run them down,
And swore they weren't worth half-a-crown;
He called it all the worst of names,
This Junction of St. Giles and James;
And thus-these Bulls have so much art with 'em-
At last he got the Stag to part with 'em.
For 'tis with these same Bulls on 'Change
As 'tis with those that meadows range;
To both alike this rule applies,
What they run after's sure to rise.
Then, wandering from his gloomy lair,
In Copthall Court, there came a Bear;
One of that curs'd unfriendly race
Who crush whatever they embrace;

54 THE COMIC ALMANAC. LI4

Whose grip is such, whatever they maul
Is generally sure to fall.
And, when he heard the Stag declare
He'd parted with his ev'ry share,
He vow'd the Bull had sorely treated him,
Nay-more he'd say-the Bull had cheated him.
It was the noblest of all schemes,
This Junction of St. Giles and Jeames I
However, as he hated knavery,
To do him an especial favour, he
Would let the Stag have thirty more,
At what he sold the others for;
The Stag of gratitude discoursed,
And took 'em on the terms aforesaid.
Now all this kindness of the Bear
Was nothing but a ruse-de-guerre;"
For no one knew so well as Bruin
To hold the Shares was perfect ruin;
The whole affair was but a swindle,
And down to discount soon would dwindle.
And, truth to say, the Bear was right,
The Panic came, like Lillywhite,
That terror of the Lords, and bowl'd out
Ev'ry man Jack who hadn't sold out;
So that there was on settling day,"
The Devil and the Bear to pay.
But," says the Stag, that cunning buffer,
The Bull, will be the chap to suffer;
So in a cab to him I'll dash up,
And get my taurine friend to cash up."
But when he gets to Mr. Taurus's,
Pasted upon the outer door, lie sees
A card with these words written over,
GONE TO BOULOGNE Vio DOVER."
Now as the Bull had run away,
Unable for the shares to pay,
'Twas clear, as he'd no cash to spare,
The Stag then couldn't pay the Bear;
So when the Bear went for his due,
The Stag had gone to Boulogne too.
And, since the Stag had cut and run,
'Twas plain the Bear could pay no one;
So those to whom he money ow'd,
When they sought out the brute's abode,
Found that the Bear, or him they call so,
Had cut and run to Boulogne also.
MORAL.
Pursue the paths of Virtue, and such stale ways,
And don't never have nothing to do with none of those bothering Railways.

____---~~~i i~, .r ~ X i dad Dar JYmaro -- ~tzelrb me.Sd~~
I.~~~~~~~___ Lj~d~E rwt regvzd brd~a~anwoIL ot

~~Ltteen~ ~ -nn ...~~~.

'' '

.E e, 15hI~

C--4kij~~

JOHN BULL AMONG THE LILLIPUTIANS.

~4~,:
.J
I ;

1847.] ,

THE MODBBE GULL IVER.

MEETING OF THE DWARFS.

A MEETING of the real bipeds, or little human beings who run about upon two
feet, was held at the Lilliputian Warehouse, in New Street, Covent Garden, to
move an address of thanks to Her Majesty, for her liberal patronage of the least
of the Rational Animals.
General TOM THUAB, L.S.D., was unanimously voted to the Child's Chair -
and the business of the Meeting having been opened by the Small Germans,
The GENERAL rose-a few inches-to address his brother Homuncules. He
said they had met to offer up an act of gratitude from the
Shortest men to the Highest Personage in the Realm-to
her who had refused to patronize everything great, and had
stooped to take them by the hand-to her who had origi-
nally given them that lift, which had caused them-short as
they were-to be looked up to by-LovELY WOMAN. And
he would be happy to favour the company with God Save
the Queen," gratis.
The ENGLISH TOM THUMB here rose to rebut the
General's assertions, and was proceeding to complain of the
want of patronage offered to native insignificance, when he
was carried out.
The HIGHLAND DWARFS. in a Scotch accent as broad as The Substance and
their size would admit, said, "a' the Gen'ral had drapt was the Shadow.
unco' true. When they left the Land o' Cakes they could
hardly raise a Bawbee among them, and now they could put down 10001. any day.
The BOSH l MEN, or PIGMY RACE, through their interpreter, stated, they
were happy to find that, though the Dwarfs had come over to England little by
little, they now formed so large a body.
DON FRANCISCO HIDALGO said, "Dat as el smallest man in el vorld, he objec
to el proceed; for he never meet vith el couragement el dam Dom Dum
speak of."
The little Men here got to very high words, and the meeting broae up in
confusion.

NAPOLLON ADIED D'BGYPTlAN HALL.

156 THE COMIC ALMANAC. 1847.

PHLARUPPE!

AN OSSIANIC POEM.
DUAN THE FIRST.
Argument.
This poem is addressed to the Maid of "the RAINBOW" (in Fleet Street), where
OSSIAN is enjoying his Whisky and Cigar. The PHLARUPPE here spoken of is
the same as the AQU EvADius mentioned so frequently in Police History, and who
in the year '40 headed an expedition against the Knockers of COCKAIGNE, and
was repulsed by theforce" under the command of ROWAN, the chief f o cotland
(Yard), though not until PHLARUPPE had routed several of his Divisions." 7Ta-
dition assigns the date of this event to the year '42, but on searching the pages ,o
the historian HODDER, we find no mention made of the circumstance in his valuable
work entitled, SKETCHES OF LIFE AND CHARACTER TAKEN AT Bow STREET.'
BRING, daughter of the Rainbow! bring me the pen of steel! The mountain-
dew sparkles in Ossian's brain, and it is brilliant with song. As is the black re-
viver to the garment whose seams are white with age, so is the cream of the valley
to the seedy soul of the bard. It brings back the freshness of youth.
A tale of high life! The deeds of the superior classes!
The draught of the waters of Kinahan wakens the memory of the past. The
odour of thy weeds, mild Lopez is pleasant in Ossian's nose. Like the brow of
Ben-Primrose, his head is veiled in clouds. Listen, thou daughter of the Rainbow !
to the deeds of the superior classes.
A tale of high life!
Fair is thy Garden, 0 Covent i Green are its paths with the leaves of the cab-
bage. There the cauliflower of Fulham rests its white head, and the pine of
Jamaica perfumes the breeze. The daughters of Erin are there laden with Pippins
of gold. Near are the halls of Evans. Music is heard in them by night. The
morning dawns in song. The voice of Llewellyn of Wales gladdens the feast! and
Sloman, the son of Israel, pours forth his numbers, apt as the bard of Moses. Glad
are the halls of Evans! It is the abode of Joy !
Wilt thou not listen, bright maid of the Rainbow! to the voice of Ossian ? My
soul is bursting with song. The collars of my Corazza droop like the ears of the
Greyhound, and my eye in a fine frenzy rolls. Thus the mighty Bunn appears
when he dreams that he dwells in marble halls. Dost thou not behold, bright maid !
the head of a lion in Ossian's hand ? A ring of iron depends from its mouth, and
its face wears a look of rage. That head the noble Phlaruppe, Lord of Bel-
gravia, tore away. Phlaruppe tore it away by the strength of his arm. Listen,
then, daughter of the Rainbow! to the tale of high life! The deeds of the superior
classes!
What sound is that kisses the ear ? Across thy Garden, sweet Covent! it comes
dancing along the breeze. Can it be the song of the lark climbing the sky ? But
the lark wakes not the night with his notes; and bright burns the gas in the lamp
of the Tavistock. 'Tis the voice of Von Joel, the toothless, gladdening the halls of
Evans. Of Evans, the son ofThespis.
The Thespian son sits in Iis hall of state. The feast is spread around. The
strong waters of Hodges and Betts sparkle on the board. A thousand Havannahs
perfume the air. A thousand glittering tankards foam with the nectar of Barclay.
There is the ripe fruit of Erin, and the rabbit of Wales is there.
Who comes from the Saloons of the West, with his warriors around him ? He
smokes the Dodeen of peace. His face glows with the juice of the Gooseberry. His
cheeks are as red as the garments of the bearers of letters on the festival of May ?
Who is it but the noble Phlaruppe, the Lord of Belgravia? In his train is Sutton
the Sambo; and Burke, the hard of hearing, attends him. Mighty In battle are
they:
The Lord of Belgravia graces the board: the Bards hail his presence with a

1847.] PHLARUPPE 157

song. He quaffs the brown stout of Dublin. The night reels away in revelry.
The morning peeps in at the casement; and Phlaruppe, the Lord of Belgravia, is
glorious with Guinness's.
A tale of high life! The deeds of the superior classes I
DUAN THE SECOND.
Grey grows the air with the Day's young light. With the carmine of Morning
the cheek of Heaven is rouged. The Camphine lamp of the Moon has gone out;
and turned off is the Gas of the Stars. Yawning the tired Policeman crawls on
his rounds.
Hushed are the halls of Evans.
Where art thou, Belgravia's Lord ? Thou pride of the West, where art thou ?
Lo I he comes; but his steps are unsteady with Beer. On the sinewy arms of the
dark-skinned Sutton, and Burke, surnamed the Deaf, he leans. From them he
bursts of a sudden, like the cork from the Waters of Soda. The head of a lion on
the gates of Gliddon, the chief of the Divan, frowns on the valiant Phlaruppe.
Dauntless as the brute-taming Van Amburgh, he grapples with the iron beast.
He sounds the fake away" of Belgravia. One potent wrench of his arm and the
head of the forest king hangs drooping from Phlaruppe's hand. Knockerless are
the gates of Gliddon Of its lion the divan is bereft!
The lynx-eyed C 16 beheld the wrong. His dander arose. He drew his staff
in vengeance. He seized the noble Phlaruppe. Sutton, the heavy-handed son
of Africa, raised his arm. His white teeth grinned defiance on the blue son of
Peel. Into the murky waters of the kennel he hurled the pride of the yard of
Scotland. His blood crimsoned the flags. Groaning for help, he sprang the
rattle of war.
Like rockets at Vauxhall the azure force of Rowan rushed up. Their hands
grasped the staff of power. Phlaruppe heard the tramp of their Wellingtons. He
sounded the Lullalietee of battle.. He gathered his warriors around him. Firm
as the cement of Pouloo they stood. As a torrent from a shower-bath poured the
stiff-necked sons of Peel upon the foe.
As the cats of Kilkenny they fight. Like the shop of the maker of trunks rings
the street with the blows. Stained is the earth with the claret of life.
Battle of the Garden of Covent, why should Ossian, like Robins, the chief of
Garraway's, pen the catalogue of thy wounds ? Thou art with the son of Kean, a
calamity of the past.
The force of the Yard of Scotland overcame!
On the stretcher of Ignominy, Phlaruppe, the Lord of Belgravia, was laid I
DUAN THE THIRD.
In the cell of the Station, Phlaruppe hiccups out the Morn. The benches of
wood pillow his burning head. He sighs for a draught of the sparkling Waters of
Carrara, or-a goblet of the bubbling Powders of Seidilitz. But the ice of the Lake
of Wenham is not more cold than the hearts of his victors. In the cell of the
Station, Phlaruppe hiccups out the Morn.
On the throne of Justice the even-handed Twyford sits. Before him Phlaruppe,
Belgravia's hope, is dragged. He quails, for the voice of the Judge is severe as
Hicks the lusty-lunged Son of the Surrey. And lo I to the terrors of Brixton's wheel
an alms-seeking child of want he condemns. What then shall be the doom of
Phlaruppe ?
But Phlaruppe is the Lord of Belgravia. In his presence the heart of Twyford;
the even-handed, grows soft as the Asphalte of Claridge before the Sun in the
days of the Dogs. With the milk of human kindness the veins of his bosom are
filled. Pity touches his heart-strings; and his tone with compassion is soft as the
Piccolo of Jullien, the Emperor of all the Polkas.
But why, Maid of the Rainbow, should Ossian, like a penny-a-liner, recite the
fine that Phlaruppe paid to his Queen; or tell how the generous Twyford, for a
crown, forgave him who tore the Lion's head from Gliddon's halls ?
A tale of high life I The deeds of the superior classes I

THE COMIC ALMANAC.

- -- "

The Carrara W\ter is found very efficacious in cases of Heart-burn.

Oh! that dreadful British
Brandy I

It is strongly recommended in
cases of foal tongue.

AN ANACREONTIC:
IN PRAISE OF CARRARA WATER.
COME, let us quaff the Wine of Moet!
Come, let us sing like Moses' Poet!
To thee and to thy sparkling daughter,
Carrara's copper-cooling Water!
Maugham come let us sing of thee,
St. Swithin of Sobriety !
Sweet, after drinking too much wine,
Kind Cockle! are those pills of thine:
Or when the bowl has drown'd the wits,
Sweet are thy Powders-Seidilitz!
Or seedy with the dew of Mountains,
The water's sweet from Soda's fountains.
Yes! sweet are these-but sweeter far are
Thy sparkling Waters-O Carrara !
And Maugham I thy fame doth far outstep
The fame of Cockle-fame of Schweppe.
So when I burn with too much toddy,'
Carrara I thou shalt cool my body ;
Yes then I'll seek that Water's aid,
That's from Carrara marble made:
And as I drain it from the chalice,
I'll dream I drink some melted palace;
Or quaff some Venus in solution,
Of fam'd Canova's execution;
Or fancy, as the draught decreases,
I'm swallowing bottled chimney-pieces
Carrara I thy delicious fluid
To me's the loveliest liquor brewed;
My throbbing brain grows calm and placid.
Whene'er I quaff thee-sweet Antacid!
Thine is the gift of being able
To cure "the excesses of the table,"
And all the ills that thence attack us,
Thou brightest, healthiest child of Bacchus
For when I've drunk too much Glenlivat,
And my head is splitting with it,
Carrara I thou can't ease my pain,
And fit my soul to drink again.

IP

"MY WIFE IS A WOMAN OF MIND'

THE WOMAN OF MIND.

MY wife is a woman of mind,
And Deville, who examined her bumps,
Vow'd that never were found in a woman
Such large intellectual lumps.
"Ideality" big as an egg,
With Causality"-great-was combined;
He charged me ten shillings, and said,
Sir, your wife is a woman of mind."

She's too clever to care how she looks,
And will horrid blue spectacles wear,
Not because she supposes they give her
A fine intellectual air;
No! she pays no regard to appearance,
And combs all her front hair behind,
Not because she is proud of her forehead,
But because she's a woman of mind.

She makes me a bushel of verses,
But never a pudding or tart,
If I hint I should like one, she vows
I'm an animal merely at heart;
Though I've notic'd she spurns not the pastry,
Whene'er at a friend's we have din'd,
And has always had two plates of pudding,
Such plates! for a woman of mind.

Not a stitch does she do but a distich,
Mends her pen too instead of my clothes;
I haven't a shirt with a button,
Nor a stocking that's sound at the toes;
If I ask her to darn me a pair,
She replies she has work more refined:
Besides, to be seen darning stockings!
Is it fit for a woman of mind P

The children are squalling all day,
For they're left to the care of a maid;
My wife can't attend to "the units,"
"The millions" are wanting her aid.
And it's vulgar to care for one's offspring-
The mere brute has a love of its kind-
But she loves the whole human family,
For she is a woman of mind.

I6o THE COMIC ALMANACK. [847.

Every thing is an inch thick in aust,
And the servants do just as they please;
The ceilings are cover'd with cobwebs,
The beds are all swarming with fleas;
The windows have never been clean'd,
And as black as your hat is each blind;
But my wife's nobler things to attend to,
For she is a woman of mind.

The Nurse steals the tea and the sugar,
The Cook sells the candles as grease,
And gives all the cold meat away
To her lover, who's in the Police.
When I hint that the housekeeping's heavy,
And hard is the money to find,
Money's vile filthy dross!" she declares,
And unworthy a woman of mind.

Whene'er she goes out to a dance,
She refuses to join in the measure,
For dancing she can't but regard
As an unintellectual pleasure:
So she gives herself up to enjoyments
Of a more philosophical kind,
And picks all the people to pieces,
Like a regular woman of mind.

She speaks of her favourite authors
In terms far from pleasant to hear;
Charles Dickens," she vows, "is a darling,"
And Bulwer," she says, "is a dear;"
"Douglas Jerrold," with her is an angel,"
And I'm an "illiterate hind,"
Upon whom her fine intellect's wasted;
I'm not fit for a woman of mind.

She goes not to Church on a Sunday,
Church is all very well in its way,
But she is too highly informed
Not to know all the parson can say;
It does well enough for the servants,
And was for poor people designed;
But bless you! it's no good to her,
For she is a woman of mind.

Old Father St. Swithin, the Uentieman who
presides over the Cat and Dog Days.

THE CLOUD.
(Another Version of SHELLEY'S partial view of the subject.)
I BRING cats and dogs, and November fogs,
For the folks of Cockney land;
And I brew the flood of slush and mud
In Fleet Street and the Strand.
From my watery bed spring colds in the head,
And highly inflamed sore-throats;
And I'm the Mama* of the bad Catarrh,
And the Mother of Waterproof Coats.
I gave birth to Goloshes and Macintoshes,
The clog, the cork sole, and the patten;
SAnd I act as wet Nus to each Omnibus,
For 'tis on my moisture they fatten.
I come down pretty thick at every Pic Nic,
And throw my cold water upon it;
And delight at each F8te that is called a Champetre,
To spoil every new silk bonnet;
I'm more kind to each Jarvey than was Wittle Harvey,
When he was Commiss'oner of Stamps;
I'm the foe of Vauxhall's Grand Fancy Dress Balls,
Where I love to extinguish the Lamps;
And whenever a fellow leaves at home his Umbrella,
Oh Lord! how I chuckle and grin!
For then you may warrant I'll come down in a torrent,
And soak the poor wretch to the skin.
Be pleased to give this word the proper Cockney pronunciation-
SMamax None others are genuine.

A Grand Gala at Vanuhall, under the Patronage of St. Swithin

I62 THE COMIC ALMANAC. [1847.

JUPITER AND THE MOTHER.
AN IDYLL.
AT the altar of Jupiter knelt a poor woman. She was about to
become a Mother, and thus she invoked the God:-
"Oh Jupiter! King of the Heavens! and Ruler of the Earth!
grant that th6 dear burthen which I now bear may be a Stranger
to the cares of Life! Vouchsafe unto it such gifts that it may be
the most admired of all thy Children,-the richest-the happiest
of Men. Oh Jupiter! King of the Heavens and Ruler of the
Earth hear me !"
She spoke, and Mercury, the winged messenger of Jove, stood
before her.
"Mortal!" said he, "return with Joy to thy hearth! He who
wieldeth the sceptre of Fate hath heard thy petition; and the
Child shall be as thou hast asked."
In time the Mother bore a Son. His form rivalled that of the
boy-god Cupid. And she rejoiced to think he was the blest of
Jupiter.
A year passed on, and the proud Mother saw the Infant bud
blossom into the Child.
But the second year came and went, and the Boy increased not
in Stature.
The third year stole away, and still the little thing grew not.
The fourth-the fifth-the sixth rolled by, and yet the Child
remained in figure as at the end of the first.
Albeit the Mother murmured not, for she remembered the
promise of him who wieldeth the sceptre of Fate, and hoped in
patience.
But when twelve summers had gone, and the anxious Matron
beheld her Boy still a Babe in form though a Youth in years,
Hope and Patience left her; and thus she complained:-
Oh Jupiter! Jupiter! have the promises of the Gods become
as those of Men? Didst thou not in thy bounty vouchsafe unto
me a Boy that should be the most admired of all thy Children?
And what hast thou sent me P A little thing to whom even the
shape of Manhood is denied! and at whose stunted figure the
world gapes with pitying wonder. Oh Jupiter Jupiter for what
mysterious good hast thou thus visited me ?"
The cloud-compelling Jove heard the Mother's murmurs and
thus from on high rebuked her:-

BORN A GENIUS

AND BORN A DWARF.

~R~m~asr~L I

1847.] JUPITER AND THE MOTHER. 163

"Why, Child of Clay! dost thou question the goodness of the
GodsP Thy petition was heard, and has been granted. What
more wouldst thou have had P Didst thou not beseech me that
thy Boy should be the richest and happiest of Men P"
"I did, Great Jove!" replied the trembling Mother; "but thou,
in thy strange bounty, hast given to me a Child with limbs too
small and weak to earn even the scantiest subsistence; and whose
wretched deformity must make his life a burthen to him and me."
"And what, blind Mortal! wouldst thou that I had done?"
exclaimed the God.
Oh that thou hadst blest him with a form of Power, and a mind
of Genius !" cried the heavy-hearted parent; "then would Wealth
and Joy have gladdened his days."
Fool that thou art!" said the Sovereign of the Skies; "listen
and learn how I have blest, and thou wouldst have curst, thy
Child! Had I conferred on him the Genius thou sighest after he
would have felt but Want and Neglect in the world. Had I quick-
ened him with a sense of the Beautiful, his Life would have been a
Misery-his Death a Crime. For know that Mind alone can
sympathize with Mind; and mindless Man enriches those who
minister rather to the luxury of his Senses than to the refinement
of his Intellect."
Oh, all-wise Jove!" exclaimed the abashed Mother.
See how thou wouldst have beggared thy Boy with Genius,"
continued the Thunderer. "And now listen how I have enriched
him with Deformity. He shall go forth a wonder to the staring
and senseless world. Monarchs shall smile upon him, and rejoice to
gird his neck with precious Jewels. He shall be the beloved of
Matrons, and the fondling of Damsels. Crowds shall flock to be-
hold him, heaping his little lap with countless riches and costly
gifts. His car shall be drawn through the public ways in triumph;
and he-the stunted dwarf-shall play the Giant Emperor among
men. Thank thou, then, the Gods, oh Woman! whose bounty has
given thee a Dwarf, and not a Genius for thy Child."
Thus spake the mighty Jove, and the Mother in gratitude cried
out:-
Oh, Jupiter! King of the Heavens, and Ruler of the Earth!
I thank thee! for now I see thou hast, indeed, vouchsafed that my
Boy shall be the most admired of all thy Children-the richest-
the happiest of Men."

[1847.

THE COMIC ALMANAC.

Perrot teaching the Gods and Goddesses how to dance.
A MONO-RHYME.
S O, Monsieur Perrot! oh, Monsieur Perrot!
Whatever on earth could have made you do so ?
Put the Judgment of Paris all into dumb-show !
Bring the Gods and the Goddesses down from en haut!
/ Paris-Mercury-Venus-Minerva-Juno-
To trip "on the light fantastic toe!"
For who ever heard of a Fandango-
A Gavotte-a Cotillion-a Bolero-
Balancez-avancez-chaine des dames- dos-h-dos,
Minerva, ashedidappear Or indeed any pas (excepting a "faux")
at the Italian Opera. Perform'd by a Goddess, I'd like to know ?
Whatever in the name, too, of LempriBre and Co.,
Could have made it come into your head to bestow
On the Goddess of Wisdom, so comme ilfaut,
And who Keightley informs us was "chaste as snow,"
A petticoat scarcely, Sir, reaching below
The knees of the lady-and looking as though
'] Twas a kilt of book-muslin or calico!
Whereas every classical cameo
Assures us she usen't her legs to show-
Perhaps they were bandy and form'd like a bow-
Minerva, as she ought to Or her ankles were gummy-but whether or no
have appeared at the Sure the Goddess half-naked objected to go.
Italian Opera. Now it wouldn't have been such a dreadful blow,
And to Mamselle Minerva much more & propose.
Had you comb'd back the hair of the Virago-
Dress'd it a la Chinoise 'stead of en Bandeau-
While apair of "blue specs" would have servedto throw
Round the Goddess of Wisdom a learned halo!
But short Petticoats surely are rather de trap
For the Sapient Minerva and Stately Juno!!
Neptune, as he probably Then Oh. Mister Lumley! i h, Monsieur Perrot I
will appear at the And Oh, Lucille Grahn! and Oh, Cerito!
Italian Opera. Whatever on earth could have made you do so ?

SHAM IBRAHIM.
or the Pacha at Vauxhall.

A LAY OF MODERN ENGLAND
OR, IBRAHII PACHA AT VAUXHALL.
GREAT IBRAIM Of Egypt has promised the Lessee
The Masquerade at Vauxhall he'll go in State to see;
To Allah he has vowed it-to Allah and the Clown,
That in his royal Glass-Coach he will in State go down.
It's posted in all Quarters-it's stuck up in all Parts,
It's carried about by Boardmen and advertising Carts;
It is in every paper-it is on every wall,
That Ibrahim of Egypt is going to Vauxhall.
To-night the Clerks of London shall Merry Monarchs" be;
To-night each Linendraper shall get his Captaincy;
The Tailors Metropolitan to-night shall strut as Greeks,
And Jews for Don Giovannis shall rouge their sallow cheeks.
But there are six young Doctors who dearly love a Laugh,
One is disguised as Ibrahim, the others as his staff;
They've hired a seedy Glass-Coach-they've Beards and Caps and All,
And as Ibrahim of Egypt they're going to Vauxhall.
And now they leave the Borough with many a loud Huzzi;
Drive on! drive on! to Vauxhall-On to the Bal Masque!
On! shout the six young Doctors, and, as the crowd Hurrah,
They laugh to find they're taken for Ibrahim Pacha.
In swarms the Masqueraders are whirling to the Doors,
Of Sailors there are Hundreds-of Soldiers there are Scores,
And lots of German Students who nought of German know,
And not a few Postillions who're not from Lonjumeau.
And many illegal Lawyers with borrow'd Wigs and Gowns,
And lively Undertakers-and melancholy Clowns,
And Debardeurs and Tomboys-and many a Bow-bell Swain,
And dressed as Heeland Lassies," the Lasses of Cockaigne.
From Eastward and from Westward the Masks are pouring there,
The Nobbish and the Snobbish from Mile End and May Fair;
They pour from many a Mess-room-and many a Second Floor,
They pour from Swan and Edgar's-from Lincoln's Inn they pour.
But now Inspector Higgins rides up the way to clear;
" Stand back stand back! you fellows, great Ibrahim is near!"
And then, far in the distance, the welkin's heard to ring,
With Long live Ibrahim Pacha! Long life to Egypt's King!"
And Nearer still and Nearer the seedy Glass-Coach steals,
And Louder grows and Louder the rumbling of its Wheels,
And Plainly and more Plainly is heard the People's din,
But Nothing still-no Nothing does the Pacha do but Grin.
For Clearly, Tery Clearly, the Tbrahim they cheer'd,
Was only a Sham Ibrahim with only a Sham Beard,
And Truly, very Truly, the Pacha's present Suite
Came not from Mighty Egypt, but from Great Tooley Street.

Now the Lessee of the Gardens receives them at the Gates,
And thinks the six young Doctors six Eastern Potentates,
And trusts His Royal Highness some Wine will deign to quaff,
Whereat His Royal Highness winks at His Royal Staff.
But the Lessee's looks are angry, and the Lessee's Brows depressed,
A Jest he loves most dearly, but this is past a Jest;
For he hears another Party with Beards and Caps and All,
As Ibrahim of Egypt has come unto Vauxhall.
Then to the Great Sham Ibrahim he talks extremely Large,
Assures his Sham Royal Highness he'll give the Rogues in charge,
Whereon the Sham Interpreter swears t'other's come to Fleece,
And calls aloud for Vengeance !" and louder for Police !"
Off to Inspector Higgins the Lessee Flies forthwith ;
" There'll be a row," says Ibrahim, as sure as my name's Smith;
Though if it comes to Fighting, boys, I am a match for Three,
And I will fight like Bricks to-night if You will stand by Me."
Then outspake young O'Driscoll, one of the Staff was He,
" I'll fight for hours for Thee, by the pow'rs and I will stand by Thee!"
And outspake Charley" Smivens, and outspake t'other Three,
" We'll fight like mad for Thee, my Lad and We'll all stand by Thee !"
Now down the Lessee rushes with Higgins to the Gates,
And vows he'll have the Pacha up before the Magistrates;
He calls His Royal Highness an Impostor and a cheat,
And tells Inspector Higgins to collar Him and Suite.
Cries Higgins, when he sees him-" This beats cock-fighting holler,
That there's the King of Egypt you're telling me to collar;
Yes, I'd take my affidavey, although you looks and starts,
That there's the King of Egypt what lojges at Mivart's!"
" That Ibr'im !" cries the Lessee, then t'other's all a Flam,
But I'll bow in the Real One if you'll kick out the Sham;"
"Iwill! I will!" shouts Higgins, then with a small Array
Of gallant young Policemen he hurries to the Fray.
Young Smivens knock'd down Higgins into the gutter-smack !
O'Driscoll sent C 30 Whap right upon his Back;
At two more of" the Body" Smith gave a potent Thrust,
And then C 6 and 7 lay groaning in the Dust.
But they've sent for more Policemen to come and keep the Peace,
And yonder from the Station march twenty more Police;
" Cut off! Cut off, O'Driscoll!" loud cried the Doctors all,
" Cut, Smith! Cut, Charley Smivens! Cut, over the Garden Wall."
Off ran both Smith and Smivens, and off O'Driscoll ran,
The other Three ran off too, pursued by man a Man,
And o'er the Wall they Lcrambled, and scrambled o'er the Ground,
Nor stopt till in the Borough they were All Safe and Sound.
And now, when of an Evening they want a hearty Laugh,
When they sit smoking Dodeens," and drinking Half and Half,
And when they're getting Jolly they Love this Chant to squall,
Telling how as Ibrahim Pacha they went into Vauxhall.

[1847.

166

THE COMIC ALMANAC.

Ii

I DREAMT I SLEPT AT MADAME TUSSAUDS:

The Magnificent Group of the Royal Family, as it will appear at Madame Tussaud's
in a few years' time.

I DREAMT THAT I SLEPT AT MADAME TUSSAUD'S.
I.
] DREAMT that I sle-ept at Madame Tussaud's,
With Cut-throats and Kings by my si-i-de;
And that all the Wax-figures in tho-ose abodes
At Midnight became vivifi-i-ied.
I dreamt William the Four-urth sat dow-own to
smoke
} With Collins, who aimed at his eye,
And I a-also dre-eamt King Hal-what a joke !-
Danc'd the Polka with Mi-istress Fry
Madam. Tussaud beside Danc'd the Polka-the Polka with Mi-istress Fry,
herself. Danc'd the Polka-the Polkawith Mi-istress Fry.

I dreamt that Napo-le-on Bo-onaparte
Was waltzing with Madame T-e-ee;
That O'Connell, to study the regicide art,
S Had a gossip with Fieschi e-ee;
SAnd Penn making eyes with Queen Be-ess I saw,
And Pitt taking gro-og with Fox.
SAnd I a-also dreamt the Sun melted-oh la!
The Bngand of Windmill The nose of Lord Brougham and Vaux-
tdo n th e lHaarkto Thenoseof-thenoseof Lord Brougham andVanx,
The nose of-the nose of Lord Brough am and Vaux.

George IV. at Madame Tus-
saud's without his grand Napoleon, at Madame Tussaud's, melting before the
Coronation Robes. Sun of England.

168 THE COMIC ALMANACK. [1847.

SIR THOMAS BROWN ON WELSH RABBITS.
BEING A CONTINUATION OF HIS INQUIRIES INTO VULGAR AND COMMON
ERRORS."
THE common opinion of the Welsh Rabbit conceits that it is a
species of Guniculus indigenous to Wales; of which assertion, if
Prescription of time and Numerosity of assertors were a sufficient
Demonstration, we might sit down herein as an orthodoxical Truth,
nor should there need ulterior Disquisition. Pliny discourseth of it
under the Head of De Animalibus Wallie. Seneca describeth it as
an exosseous Animal, or one of the invertebrated or boneless kind.
Claudian saith that it delighteth to burrow underground in Coal
Holes and Cyder Cellars. Scaliger affirmeth it to be like to the
Hyena, incapable of Domitation or taming, for the cause that he
never heard of one being domesticated in a Hutch. Sarenus Sam-
monicus determineth it to be like unto the Salamander, moist in the
third degree, and to have a mucous Humidity above and under the
Epidermis, or outer skin, by virtue whereof it endureth the Fire for
a time. Nor are such conceits held by Humane authors only, for
the holy Fathers of the Church have likewise similarly opinioned.
St. Augustine declareth it to be an unclean Animal; insomuch that
like to the Polecat it is Graveolent, emitting a strong Murine, or
Micy Effluvium. The Venerable Bede averreth that it is Nocti-
parent, as the Bat or Owl, and seldom quitteth its Warrenne until
Midnight, for food; for the reason that being Coecigenons, or pos-
sessing no organs of Vision, it loveth Tenebrosity.
All which notwithstanding, upon strict inquiry, we find the
Matter controvertible. Diodorus, in his Eleventh Book, affirmeth
the Welsh Rabbit to be a creature of Figment, like unto the Sphinx
and Snap-Dragon. Mathiolus, in his Comment on Dioscorides,
treateth it not as an Animal, but as a Lark. Sextius, a Physitian,
saith that having well digested the matter, he was compulsed to
reject it; whilest Salmuth, the Commentator of Pancirollus, averreth
that one Podocaterus, a Cyprian, kept one for Months in a Cage,
without ever having attained the sight of the remotest Manifestation
of Vitality.
Now, besides Authority against it, Experience doth in no way
confirm the existence of the Welsh Rabbit as an Animant Entity.
But, contrariwise, the principles of Sense and Reason conspire to
asseverate it to be, like unto the Myths of Paganism, an Inanimant
Body, vivificated by the Ignoration and Superstitiosity of men. For
had they but inquired into the Etymon, or true meaning of the
name of the Entity in question, they would have experienced that
it was originally merely the Synonyme for a British Dainty, or
Cymric Scitamentum; insomuch as it was primitively appellate,
" The Welsh Tid, or Rare-Bit;" which, by elision, becoming Meta-
morphosed into Ra'bit, was, from its Homophony, vulgarly supposed
to have respect to the Cuniculus rather than to the Scitamentum
of Wales.
Again, the Doctrine of the Existence of the Welsh Rabbit as a

1847.] SIR THOMAS BROWN ON WELSH RABBITS. 169

Vivous Entity, doth in nowise accord with the three definitive Con-
firmators and Tests of things dubious: to wit, Experiment, Analysis,
and Synthesis. And first by Experiment. For if we send to Wales
for one of the Rabbits, vernacular to the Principality, we shall dis-
criminate on the attainment of it, no Difformity in its Organism
from that of the Cuniculi vulgar to other Countries. And if we then
proceed to discoriate and exossate the Animal thus attained, or to
deprive it of both its Skin and Bones, and after to macerate the
residuary Muscular Fibre into a papparious Pulp,we shall experience,
upon diffusing the same on an Offula tosta, or a thin slice of toast,
that so far from the concoction partaking in the least of the delectable
Sapor of the Welsh Scitamentum,it will in no way titillate the lingual
Papillae, but, contrariwise, offer inordinate Offence to the Gust.
And, secondly, by Analysis, If, in the stead of sending to Wales,
we betake ourselves to any Hostelrie or place of Cenatory Resort,
vicine to Covent Garden (whereanent they be celebrious for the con-
coction of such like Comestibles, for the Deipnophagi or eater of
Suppers), and thence provide ourselves with one of the Welsh Rare-
bits or Scitamenta, whereof we are treating, we shall discriminate
upon the Dissolution or Discerption of its parts, that it consisteth
not of any Carnal Substance, but simply of a Superstratum of some
flavous and adipose Edible, which, to the Sense of Vision, seemeth
like unto the Unguent, denominated Basilicon, or, the Emplastrum
appellate Diachylon; whilest to the Sense of Olfaction it beareth
an Odour that hath an inviting Caseous or Cheesy Fragror, and
fulfilleth all the conditions and Predicaments of caseous matter or
Cheese, which hath undergone the process of Torrefaction; whereof,
indeed, if we submit a portion to the Test of the Gust, we shall,
from the peculiar Sapor appertinent thereto, without Dubitation
determine it to consist.
And, thirdly and lastly, by Synthesis. If we provide ourselves
with about a Selibra or half pound of the Cheese, entitulated
Duplex Glocestrius, or Double Gloucester; and then go on to cut
the intrinsic caseous Matter into tenuous Segments or Laminae;
and, positing such Segments within the coquinary commodity dis-
tinguished by Culinarians as the Furnus Batavice or Dutch Oven,
submit the same to the Fire, until by the action of the Caloric they
become mollified unto Semiliquidity: whereupon, if we diffuse the
caseous fluid on an Offula of Bread, the Superfices whereof hath
been previously terrified, and then Season the same with a slight
aspersion of the Sinapine, Piperine, and Saline Condiments, or with
Mustard, Pepper, and Salt, we shall find that the Sapor and Fra-
gror thereof differ in no wise from the Gust and Odour of the Edible
we had prae-aitained from the Covent Garden Coenatorium; and,
consequentially, that the Welsh Rabbit is not, as the Vulgar
Pseudodox conceiteth, a species of Cuniculus vernacular to Wales,
but as was before predicated, simply a Savoury and Redolent Scita-
mentum or Rarebit, which is much existimated by the Cymri or
Welsh people, who, from time pretermemorial, have been cognized
as a Philocaseous, or Cheese-loving, Nation.

THE COMIC ALMANAC.

THE MILITARY ACADEMY IN A UPBROAR.

THE EDUCATION OF THE SOLDIER.
A GREAT deal of Ink has been shed upon the question
whether DILWORTH should enter the army; but we have met
with no greater instance of the necessity of sending the sons
of Mars, or, in other words, the children "in arms," to an
infant school, than the following copy of verses which were
picked up in one of the Areas of Albany Street, and which are
supposed to be the outpourings of some Cupid in the Life
Guards, to his Psyche in the Kitchen:-

The Naughty TO THE IDLE OF MY HEART.
Life-Guardsman.
ark to the Blarst of Waw, luv,
fal, la, lal, la
hit His the cannings Raw, luv,
fal, la, lal, la
yes! yes! that Marshall Orn, luv,
purclames i must be Gorn, luv,
and brake that Art of Yourn, luv,
fal, la, lal, la

wy duz that buzzum Sy, luv,
fal, la, lal, la
hand teers bejew that High, luv,
fal, la, lal, la
but Hair i Mounts my charger, luv,
i Wood the gift wur Larger, luv, The Life-Guardsman
take thou this Here mustarsher, luv, on his Pegasus.
l fal, la, lal, la
"Creeping like Snail
lazily to School." we Har the boys for Luving, luv,
fal, la, lal, la
for deth we dent Care Nuffin, luv,
fal, la, lal, la
but Hif i Falls a marter, luv,
sa will you Hever Harter, luv,
weep Here my sad Departur, luv,
fal, la, lal, la

M W/1 I l/ ke fe
y u) qL Ita xw Z hs 1 COAL CWC; h,,

4 Xt s 7tn
"- sLo7-dtaL i W Pt sc ls'.a StJc ~~it~
moNo~~

~B l~~88 l E~I~o0.

THE SICK GOOSE AND THE COUNCIL OF HEALTH.

i847.1

WELTHE, HELTHE, AND HAPPINESS.
A RYGHTE MEBRIE CONCEITTE.
IN Inglande's fam'd Metropolis
There dwelte inne days of yore,
A wondrous great Philosopher,
Uppe inne a second flore.

His lerninge was prodigious,
And ofte myghte be be sene,
Wastinge y, mydnyghte rushlyghte, o'er
ye Pennie Magazene.

Eftsoons his fame came to ye eares
Of one steept to hys chinne
Inne sickness and inne miserie,
And shocking short of tinne.

He hadde been jilted by ye made
Who sholde have been hys spouse,
He'd y Lumbagoe inne hys loynes,
Ye Sherriffe inne hys house.

So he sought out ye sage's celle,
Resolv'd to take advise,
And didde for y Philosopher
Ye myddel belle ringe twyce.

ye sage came down immediatelie
ye sounds fell onne hys eare,
Inne trothe yO great Philosopher
Didde thynke it was hys beere.

But, whenne he saw y, Invalede,
And lernt whatte he didde lack,
ye sage he kindlie ask6d hym
Uppe to his two paire back :

For, like a nutte, ye sage was kind
Atte heart, tho' rough inne huske,
And to afflixion kepte hys eares
Open from tenne tille duske.

So he y0 sorrie Invalide
Withe everie kindnesse treated,
He drewe a trunke from neathe hys bedde,
And begg'd he wolde be seated.

"Now lette me hear from thee," he sedde,
"Thy sorrowfulle report;
Tho' yffe 'tis longe" observed the sage,
Be plees'd to cutte itte shorte"

THE COMIC ALMANAC.

Thenne brieflie spoke ye Invalede,
Y- wretche who to thee comes
Is suffering bytterlie from Love,
Lumbagoe, and yr Bummes."

"Butte," said yo great Philosopher,
Whatte seekeste thou of mee ?
Thou arte a manne withe whom I feare
Itt's nearlie alle U-P."

"Oh no!" exclaim'd ye Invalede,
"You'll clere me from this messe,
Yffe you'll tell me yo Waye to Welthe,
And Helthe, and Happinesse."

"I feare," sedde y0 Philosopher,
Thatt's more thanne I canne doo;
To solve so deepe a problemme, boye,
Requires a pype or two."

He filled hys bowle, thenne pufft and thought,
And mutter'd No that's notte itte !
Y" waye to Welthe !-Yes! lette mee see !
I' feckings! boye, I've gotte itte!"

" Marke well my wordss" thenne sedde ye sage,
"Yffe thou dost long for rytches,
A quack Lyfe Pille withe gold will fille
ye Pockettes of your britches."

"Moste surelie," cried ye Invalede,
Thatte is ye waye to Welthe;
Butte oh! thou great Philosopher I
Whiche is ye waye to Helthe?"

Thatte's quicklie tolde," returned ye sage,
Ye Quacke Pille, whenne you make itte,
Lette others swallow !-butte be sure,
Neverre yourself to take itte."

"Oh, learned sage!" ye youth exclaim'd,
Thy words I'll live to bless!
Butte one more question still remanes,
YO waye to Happinesse."

Yffe that you'd know," replied ye sage,
"Withe thee this maximme carrie;
As you wolde lede a happier lyfe,
Take my advise-Don't marry!"

Ye Invalede returned home,
And liv'd to be four score,
Amasst ne ended of gold, and died
A happier batchelore.

"THEEE EVER WERE SUCH TIMES/

TEMPUS EDAX RERUM.
OLn Time is a regular glutton,
Something dainty for ever he's munching;
The leg of a Statue's his dinner,
And the wing of a Palace his luncheon.
Rhodes' Colossus is merely a chicken,
Iu the maw of this greedy old soul;
And Stonehenge only rashers of granite,
And Pompeii a "toad in the hole."
Trajan's Column to him's a Poloney,
And the Pyramids Omelettes Souffiles;
Irish stew are would Erin's Round Towers,
And a nice little hash is Herne Bay.
But of late, he'd had little worth eating,
So one day he-inclin'd for a treat-
At the Board of Works called to inquire
What new buildings they'd got he could eat,
The Commissioners said, "They were sorry
They'd go: nothing nice for him; but
There's the Wellington Statue just up, Sir,
And Westminster Bridge in low cut.
"Nelson's Monument wasn't quite ready"
For old Edax Rerum to swallow;
SBut he might have the National Gallery,
With Trafalgar Square Fountains to follow."
But though he lik'd things in bad odour,
The Gallery pleased not his whim;
For though very fair game was the building,
'Twasn't rotten enough yet for him.
"On the ruins of Greece have I feasted,"
Cried Old Time, with contemptuous raillery;
"And having a taste for the Parthenon,
How the deuce can I stomach that Gallery ?"

Here we are again I

COME, MOVE O THERE. MY MAN.

i847.]

174 THE COMIC ALMANAC. [1847

THE STAGE COACHMAN AND THE POST BOY.
AN IMAGINARY CONVERSATION.
STAGE COACHMAN (meeting Post Boy).
VY! who'd a thought o' seeing you! Veil! how's your vife and fammerly ?
and how do you find yourself, Muster Joe
POST BoY.
Only middlin', thank ye -but how can you expect a man, who's a yarning
nuffin a-veek, to find himself, I should like to know ?
STAGE COACHMAN.
Ah! these here is hard times for you and me, Joe; since every hindivid'al
objects vith us now to ride-
I'm blow'd if I an't been empty for this month past, and gone every journey
vith nuffin at all in my inside.
POST BoY.
And as for the matter of po-chaises, Vill'm, bless you there's so plaguy
little for a boy now to do-
That I'm sure I don't know how I should eve, be able to ive, if I didn't hoc-
casionally make a dinner out of a Fly" or twc.
STAGE COACHMAN.
Vell! all I can say is, Joe, I can't keep on a running of my coach without
never no passengers;
Only, I can't a-bear the idea of my poor lossess a going the vay of all
'oss-fiesh, and a being made into beef passengers.
POST BoY.
Yes! that'll be the hend on the poor critturs, no doubt; for I have heerd-
and it sartinly is my belief-
that, since the railvays have come in, many houses in town rig'larly every
veek biles down three 'osses and a gallovay for halamode beef.
STAGE COACHMAN.
Cuss all railways and steam ingins, says I! I vonders how people can like
to travel by switch houtlandish modes-
Only, to be sure, there is jist now vot they calls a Manier" for mangling
all the country, and hironing all the roads.
POST BOY.
And if they only goes on a using up the iron in the vay they're now doing,
depend on it, Vill'am-though I hopes I shan't live to see it!
Every poor 'oss that is left vill be hobligated to vander about the streets,
without never so much as a shoe to his feet.
STAGE COACHMAN.
And vorser still !-Hang me if each blessed Landlord vont be hinsolvent,
and each blessed hinn be sqvashed-
For I heerd t'other day that even "THE RED LION" had got over his head
and ears in debt, and vas a going to get vhitevashed.

N '-

IbS ts: 3'.y Sn-Y to twoin Im iu C4usA tw hlzll r, l ut you
e ,,n. Itk .cut iywe .rP ,, vt d flY f ac .ad mse 't tu a t.Le .'- -
!V.ys*y abmvt m. knot vu m- aj cwzny'4 LCUdAi 4w k, Ft
", s S! y cs, t -"my oy,= wIA,-. Wh non u ho a --.! reu4 -a- -.
^y t i o wY y C4ie .' a. m.y ry" 'crv Au C i 4-1
,_^.., -iEU -- "/-a --- ...-

f -. '-- ---T. ,' L 'A -. '-
1&11~ -~i~T 15rd

STEAMED OUT.

or the Starving Stage-Coachman and Boys.

1847.] THE STAGE COACHMAN AND THE POST BOY. 175

POST BoY.
They do say, too, that the Sheriff has seized all THE HANGEL'S" things,
and "THE 'OLE IN THE VALL" is to be closed afore another twelvemonth
comes round-
And, vot's more that "THE PIG IN THE POUND" 's broke, and von't be hable
to pay his creditors nuffin at all votsomdever in the pound.

STAGE COACHMAN.
And then the Chambermaids has all gone to stand behind mahogany counters
at the Stations-though a body would hardly think it-
Vhere they sarves out hot tea and soup, to poor half-starv'd devils ot pas-
sengers, vot aren't hallowed no time to drink it.

POST Boy.
All the Boots, too, has turned railvay policemen, and hangs out them signals,
of vhich you've werry likely heerd speak;
And vhich they uses to purvent the gen'l'men, as is travelling in sitch a werry
particular hurry, a being druv slap into the middle of next veek.

STAGE COACHMAN.
Yes! and the vorst of that there cursed railvay is, that whenever there is a
accident on it-
The're sartin to mangle a person's poor body so, that even the Coroner don't
like sitting upon it.
POST Bor.
And though, Vill'am, I've bolted with dozens of heiresses in my time, I an't
had a 'lopement for this plaguy long vhile ;
For the 'appy couples, hang 'em now takes a day ticket" to Gretna Green,
and runs avay in the most hunromanticated style.

STAGE COACHMAN.
Yes! and here now is that beautiful purcession, on the fust of May, to
show off the new scarlet coats of the Drivers of Her Majesty's mails ?
Vy I if there vos to be sitch a thing, now-a-days, Joe! it 'ud be nuffin but
von one long line of them beastly dirty Stokers to them nasty filthy rails.

POST BOY.
Veil! Vill'am, I only vish I vas the hingineer to them there railvay trains-
and then their business I couldn't be werry long sp'iling;
For, if I only had the driving of all of them as likes travelling behind steam
.ingins, blow me but I'd bust the bilers of the whole biling.

STAGE COACHMAN.
And, as for my part, if I only had the tooling along of them there D'rectors-
into 'em, Crikey Joe, couldn't I stick it ?
Yes I'd tool 'em along slap to that "bourne from which no traveller
returns;" or, in other words, from which nobody can't get no Return
Ticket."

176 THE COMIC ALMANAC. [847.

ADVICE TO PARENTS AND GUARDIANS.
(Strictly private and confidential.)
MT VERY DEAR FRIENDS,
I have frequently observed your praiseworthy though unavailing attempts
to reduce your domestic expenses, by getting your wards and daughters
"off your hands." I regret to say I have seen much energy on your parts
misdirected, and many an elegant and expensive supper given by you to no
purpose.
Now, to prevent these failures in future, and to allow the "dear girls'
a better chance of getting comfortably settled" in life, I am about to con-
fide to you a secret, whieh experience has shown me to be well worth
knowing.
What I would first ask you, is the primary object of all evening parties?
Why do you engage Weippert's band, or order your supper and ices from
Gunter? Is it-candidly now between ourselves-to make your friends
happy ? Or is it not to catch some amiable and independent young bachelor,
who is willing to make your girl the partner of his bosom and banker's,
account ? Of course you are people of the world, and don't mind throwing
one of Gunter's sprats to catch an aristocratic herring.
To command success, however, in this style of marital fishing, one thing,
let me tell you, above all, is necessary, and that is, a conservatory leading
from the ball-room. Think, oh ye Parents and Guardians 1 for a moment of
the advantages of such an arrangement.
The bashful or timid young man, after the quadrille, is sure to propose a
temporary retirement among the flowers, because they afford him something
beyond the weather to talk about, and if he only be matrimonially disposed,
no place-depend upon it-is more likely to make him speak out. For
instance, he asks the young lady to pick him a Camelia, she does so of course,
and, if she has nice eyelashes, takes advantage of the opportunity afforded
her, to display some little timidity and the said eyelashes while arranging
the leaves. But if not blest with those bewitching adjuncts to a pretty face,
I have known a half-suppressed sigh from the interesting creature answer
very well; for your bashful young gentleman very frequently labours under
the notion that he is a lady-killer; and ten to one but he is thus led to think
he has made a conquest of the poor girl, and so, resolving to make her happy,
proposes on the spot.
The conservatory is quite as useful for what is called the fast man,"
or for the man of the world, or indeed for any other species of the genus
homo; though of course the treatment must in each of these cases be
judiciously varied
Your fast man"-who is generally given to capacious coat-sleeves, and
an eccentric narrowness of neckcloth-prefers a young girl witl something
to say for herself," and who does not leave him to supply all the conver-
sation. The agreeable rattle" should therefore be kept up by the young
lady, and if the dear girl have a pretty hand she may take off her Houbi-
gant," and amuse herself by dipping hlr taper fingers in the basin of the
little fountain, with its three miserable gold fish. The fast ian"' will then
probably essay a joke, or a compliment, whereupon the young lady may play-
fully sprinkle him with a few drops of water; and thus, doubtlessly, matters
will proceed, until the "rapid" gentleman thinks her a de'ced nice girl
with no nonsense about her;" so that the flirtation, if not nipped by bad

ADVICE TO YOUNG LADIES.

management in the bud, may, in due course of time, blossom into a
proposal.
For a sentimental young man the "language of flowers" presents a very
"taking" subject for conversation; while to the scientific bachelor, a con-
servatory affords an easy means for a botanical discussion; besides, the
examination of a plant is sure to bring the faces of the couple into proximity;
and no disciple of Linnaeus, however ardent, is proof against that peculiar
thrill which is caused by a pretty girl's glossy and perfumed ringlets brushing
against.the cheek.
With the matter-of-fact young man a conservatory is quite as useful. He
likes his own comfort better than anything else, and considers the supper the
best part of the evening; a seat among the flowers saves him the trouble of
dancing, so that he will think any young lady a very sensible girl" for
proposing such a thing ; and, as he considers himself a very sensible young
man, why of course the sensible young man would like a sensible young lady
for his wife.
In all these arrangements a maiden aunt, or the useful "friend of the
family," should be stationed near the conservatory door; for occasionally the
"dear girls" are disposed to flirt with Captains, with large moustacnios and
small means. All elderly mammas having unmarried daughters should be
carefully excluded, as every mother of a family is well known to take a
malicious delight in interrupting promising affairs of this kind, when their
own girls do not form part of the tete-a-tete.
Believe me, my dear Friends, yours very sincerely,
A VICTIM TO A CONSERVATORY.

ADVICE TO YOUNG LADIES.
Mv DEAR CREATURES,
Yes, you are all dear to me-so dear that when I watch you, as
I do at times, most anxiously, I feel how sadly you stand in need of an
adviser.
But do not alarm yourselves I am not going to be ill-natured. No I I
will not find fault with Miss Crinoline's bustle; though I certainly must con-
fess it is rather absurd to see her doing the very agreeable in one room, with
the hind breadths of her skirt half-way across another. Nor will I say any-
thing to Miss Nude about wearing her dresses so low as she does; for though
I am an ardent admirer of the "blanches 46paules," still I cannot help ob-
serving that she does allow her gown to slip a leetle too far off her shoulders
sometimes. But I can't spare Miss Carney, who calls Miss Nude dear,"
and then tells me confidentially, how bad it looks to see such a nice girl as
she is go about with her shoulders so dreadfully exposed; that it really makes
people think her so bold, and that it's pity some one doesn't tell her of it."
And this Miss Carney does with a look of such pretty pity that for a moment
I think she is the most good-natured creature since Mrs. Adam, and feel
inclined to run and tell the bare shoulders that she ought to be ashamed of
herself. It's a great mark of talent in a young lady, by-the-bye, to be able
to say ill-natured things in a good-natured way.
And I should most strongly recommend Miss Madonna, who wears her
hair plain, not to find fault with Miss Chevelure's crisp ringlets. Why
N

ADVICE TO YOUNG LADIES.

management in the bud, may, in due course of time, blossom into a
proposal.
For a sentimental young man the "language of flowers" presents a very
"taking" subject for conversation; while to the scientific bachelor, a con-
servatory affords an easy means for a botanical discussion; besides, the
examination of a plant is sure to bring the faces of the couple into proximity;
and no disciple of Linnaeus, however ardent, is proof against that peculiar
thrill which is caused by a pretty girl's glossy and perfumed ringlets brushing
against.the cheek.
With the matter-of-fact young man a conservatory is quite as useful. He
likes his own comfort better than anything else, and considers the supper the
best part of the evening; a seat among the flowers saves him the trouble of
dancing, so that he will think any young lady a very sensible girl" for
proposing such a thing ; and, as he considers himself a very sensible young
man, why of course the sensible young man would like a sensible young lady
for his wife.
In all these arrangements a maiden aunt, or the useful "friend of the
family," should be stationed near the conservatory door; for occasionally the
"dear girls" are disposed to flirt with Captains, with large moustacnios and
small means. All elderly mammas having unmarried daughters should be
carefully excluded, as every mother of a family is well known to take a
malicious delight in interrupting promising affairs of this kind, when their
own girls do not form part of the tete-a-tete.
Believe me, my dear Friends, yours very sincerely,
A VICTIM TO A CONSERVATORY.

ADVICE TO YOUNG LADIES.
Mv DEAR CREATURES,
Yes, you are all dear to me-so dear that when I watch you, as
I do at times, most anxiously, I feel how sadly you stand in need of an
adviser.
But do not alarm yourselves I am not going to be ill-natured. No I I
will not find fault with Miss Crinoline's bustle; though I certainly must con-
fess it is rather absurd to see her doing the very agreeable in one room, with
the hind breadths of her skirt half-way across another. Nor will I say any-
thing to Miss Nude about wearing her dresses so low as she does; for though
I am an ardent admirer of the "blanches 46paules," still I cannot help ob-
serving that she does allow her gown to slip a leetle too far off her shoulders
sometimes. But I can't spare Miss Carney, who calls Miss Nude dear,"
and then tells me confidentially, how bad it looks to see such a nice girl as
she is go about with her shoulders so dreadfully exposed; that it really makes
people think her so bold, and that it's pity some one doesn't tell her of it."
And this Miss Carney does with a look of such pretty pity that for a moment
I think she is the most good-natured creature since Mrs. Adam, and feel
inclined to run and tell the bare shoulders that she ought to be ashamed of
herself. It's a great mark of talent in a young lady, by-the-bye, to be able
to say ill-natured things in a good-natured way.
And I should most strongly recommend Miss Madonna, who wears her
hair plain, not to find fault with Miss Chevelure's crisp ringlets. Why
N

THE COMIC ALMANACK.

should Miss Madonna say they are not becoming? Miss Chevelure's soft
blue eyes and aquiline nose certainly proclaim her to be the prettier of the
two; and I would bet my favourite whisker that Miss Madonna is a far
better customer to Isadore for cosmetique, bandoline, fixature, and other
toilet luxuries than she of the crisp ringlets whom she decries. And why
should Miss Madonna be severe upon Miss Blue Stocking (whom she calls
her dear Clob," and rushes to embrace when she enters the room) ? Why
should she say that Miss Blue Stocking has her hair dressed A la Chinoise,"
to show off her forehead, and make her look more intellectual? ButI don't
believe it; though I certainly must say that it would be better if the fair
bas bleu did wear her hair a little less like the ladies of China, and a little
more like those of England.
My dear creatures, take my advice-never call a young lady "dear,"
when every one knows you detest her; and never try to exalt yourselves by
the detraction of others. Depend upon it, the diminishing spectacles of
envy do not become you.
Again: I don't like to hear Miss Pertness abusing Captain Rover, and
calling him an impudent fellow and a coxcomb in so spiteful a tone; espe-
cially when I know that a few evenings back she danced with him nearly
every quadrille, and that she is now curling her pretty lip simply because
Miss Flirt's sparkling eyes have bewitched the Captain for a time. Nor
should Miss Pertness run across the room to Miss Prude (whom she laughs
at for dressing like a girl ofeighteen, when all the world knows she's thirty,
if she's a day"), to point out how the said Miss Flirt is coquetting with the
said Captain Rover.
Rest assured, my dear creatures, when you can say nothing good of any
one, the best way is to keep your pretty mouths closed, and to say nothing
at all. Talk any little innocent nonsense you like that is natural to you;
but do not, for goodness sake, be satirical or ill-natured. Leave that to
philanthropists.
Above all, don't flirt too much: it's very dangerous, and may ruin your
prospects in the world. For rely upon it, that though most men like flirts
very well for an evening, they would hardly think of linking themselves to
one for a lifetime.
Moreover, don't affect blueness, or music-madness, or any kind of literary
or scientific mania: though if you must, for mercy sake, don't be silly
enough to believe that you show your intellect by neglecting your dress or
personal appearance. Philosophy and Polkas are very distinct things; so
either throw up one or the other; for the song that says, I must have lov'd
thee hadst thou not been fair," is one of those fictions that Bunn and the
other British Poets have been in the habit of getting set to music, and foist-
ing on the public from time immemorial
Now, adieu and though I am quite aware that the main object of your
lives is to make us the slaves of your charms, and then to render us miserable
by marrying us (the bare idea sets us trembling), still we wish you success
the most brilliant. May Park phaetons, opera-boxes, diamond suites, and
even coronets and plain gold rings, be showered at your dear. little feet;
and, above all, may you be happy, whether your wedding-cards bear the
address of Belgrave Square or Clapham Common.
Yours, ever Platonically,
ALBERT DE BERLINs.

1[847.

THE BANQUET OF THE BLACK DOLLS
in commemoration of the Reduction of the Duty on Rags.

The Cooks of England offering up their Kitchen Stuff to t

DE BLACK DOLLIBUS.

Taz Black Dolls of England are a highly comic race. They were the
first to mingle the unctuous joke with the dry details of business, and to
give a lightness to puffs before unknown to the paste of the Billaticker.
They are the Smolletts of Posters, and the Fieldiugs of the Broad Sheet.
Clare Market appears to be the grand centre of these right merriemarine
store shops. Here a magazine of linen rags and witty conceits displays a
thoroughly Gran-tian work of art, in which one cook is inquiring of
another, who wears a chapeau in tremendously full flower, My dear,
where did you get that splendid new bonnet from?" to which the other
replies, "Why, by carrying my bones and fat to the real original Black
Doll, No. 12," &c. Another racy repository exhibits a grand transparency,
representing a tite.g-tfte between the Black Doll and one of her fellow-
countrymen, in which the dark gentleman, in a most unniggerly dialect, is
made to ask, "Why, Dinah, do all the people come to Massa's shop ?" and
Dinah to reply, "Because Sabo, Massa gives the best price for all oldiron,
inen rags, and kitchen stuff.' Then there is the highly popular bellman,
who is eternally crying, Oh yes I Oh yes I WE (!) are now giving two.
pence for three pounds of old bones," &c. And last of all, the exceedingly
tempting inquiry, "Do you want a plumpudding ?" of which dainty there
is prefixed a splendidly coloured caricature, and for which one spirited
rag merchant subjoins the following curious recipe:-
THE BLACK DOLL'S REOEIPT FOR A GOOD PLUM PUDDING.
Take 81bs. of the best white linen rags, 41bs. of broken flint glass, and
12 ditto of old bones; throw in a handful of old nails, with a few horses'
shoes, and fat irons at discretion. Put these into a bag, and bring them
to No. 12, &c., and you will find that it will make you a good family plum
pudding; but if you wish to give it additional richness, you should add a
few pounds of kitchen-stuff, and put a pound or two of candles into the
grease pot.

*',AVrJ i ^ / "

heir Black Idol.

It shall have all the
kitchen stuff-so
it shall.

A Lover of Grease.

The Real Ethiopian Serenaders or the first that extracted Notes (Bank) from Bones.
N2

THE COMIC ALMANAC.

THE HONOUR OF THE READER'S COMPANY IS REQUESTED TO
A DINNER PARTY.
THE Dining Room's quite a sight! The Chairs have had their pina-
fores taken off for the occasion, and now stand out in all the glory of
Morocco. The table, which in the morning was only a modest square, has
by means of its telescope been stretched into an oblong. You can count
the number of guests by the number of chairs, and before each seat stands a
small cluster of wine glasses, of different shapes and colours, two plates, and
a napkin folded into the form of a triangle, with a small sandball-looking
French roll secreted within it. The salt has changed its colour-is pink,
and looks flushed with excitement. The supernumerary silver has been taken
from its catacomb of the plate chest, where it has been kept since the last
grand dinner, shrouded in wash leather, and like an old Dowager has now
been rouged into brightness.
At the Sideboard stands Kitson, the host, with a shiny soapy face, decant-
ing the wine, and consequently in a bad humour. And the honest Coal and
Potato Warehouseman, who beats carpets and attends evening parties," is
fortifying himself in the passage by swallowing all that is left at the bottom
of the bottles, with a look of extreme disgust for all spirituous liquors; and
Master Kitson is helping his Father with the Wine, and himself to the AL
monds and Raisins, when the Governor is not looking. On one side stand
half a dozen of generous Port, in rich coats of Cobweb, with their chalk
fronts; and on the other, two or three bottles of that tall, stately-looking,
silver-headed, dinner-party-drinking Champagne.
In the Drawing-room is Mrs. Kitson, in a dreadful state of mind, standing
on a chair-on which she has spread her handkerchief, from the fear of soil-
ing the damask of the cushion-groaning over the Ormolu Lamp, and trying
to discover why it has been dripping on the yellow satin Ottoman beneath.
In the midst of this a hungry double knock comes at the door, and the
hostess has just got time enough to snatch one of the showily-bound books,
which are placed at regular distances round the drawing-room table, and
arrange herself and her dress on the Sofa, with a look of deep interest, when
the Coal and Potato Warehouseman announces the first small appetite in a
voice that savours strongly of "Below." And in the said small appetite
walks in a love of a dress that talks French as fast as it can rustle. The
conversation takes a lively turn, first, as to the weather, and then as to the
children of the two establishments, each fond mother trying to make out
that "her dear Herbert" or "her dear Kitty" was more delicate than the
other fond Mother's sweet offspring.
Now the hungry double knocks come quicker and stronger, and the plates
and the glasses jingle a kind of chorus. The next-door neighbours keep
running to the windows, and are quite sure there is something going on at
the Kitson's, and feel highly indignant at people not treating their neigh-
bours as themselves, and vow revenge at their next evening party. There

[1847.

is a small crowd of half a dozen errand-boys and nursery-maids in front of
the house, who closely criticise the dress of each small appetite as it arrives.
The company now are only waiting for the family Doctor; and Mrs. K.
begins to have dreadful visions of the haunch of Venison done to a cinder,
and the Turbot about the consistency of curds and whey. Every now and
then young Kitson comes into the room and whispers into his mothe 's ears,
and receives a mysterious something, that sounds like keys. Kitson has got
three or four of his old Cronies together, and is letting them into the secret
of some miraculous quack pill, and how it has done him a world of good.
At length in walks the dilatory family Doctor, with a volume of splendid
excuses, and, being a jocular man of the world, he easily obtains a pardon.
Then comes a general move for the dinner-table, where Mrs. Kitson looks
over a kind of Index of the Chairs, which she has on a card; and tells each
party where he or she is to eat his or her dinner; by which contrivance she
cleverly manages to place bashful gentlemen next to talkative ladies, and
bashful ladies next to talkative gentlemen.
Then the family Doctor insists on Mrs. Kitson letting him help the Turbot,
whereupon Kitson informs the whole table that he shall be jealous if the
Doctor goes on in that way," which being, of course, a good joke, causes
the guests to giggle unanimously. Every now and then the Doctor does a
witticism, whereat the Coal and Potato Warehouseman, who is of a facetious
turn of mind, chuckles inwardly, and manages to lodge a slice of Venison or
a cutlet in some lady's back hair. Now Kitson gives a mysterious nod, and
immediately Champagne is handed round, and Master K. ventures on a
glassful; on which his Father looks as black as gentility will allow him, and
determines within himself not to allow Augustus to dine at table again
until he knows how to behave himself.
On the removal of the cloth Mrs. Kitson's proud moment arrives. She
has thrown the whole strength of the footman into the French polish, and
her domestic reputation stands upon her tables. At the sight of them all
her female friends fall into violent admiration, and, How do you do it; I
can never get ours half as bright," &c., &c., bursts from every housewife.
With the Dessert come the dear little Master and Miss K.'s, beautifully got
up with bear's grease and pink sarsenet for the occasion, but looking rather
pale from the effects of having dipped their tiny fingers into each dish as it
left the Parlour (the Doctor is in doubt whether it arises from Bile, or a
nasty Influenza that is flying about); and each of the ladies begs to have
"the little pets" next to her.
Now the gentlemen begin tempting the ladies, by cutting oranges into the
shapes of lilies and baskets, or cracking nuts for them. And so matters pro-
ceed, until Mrs. Kitson looks inquiringly at each lady, and each lady having
smiled in answer, they all rise and make for the door, which two or three of
the younger gentlemen rush to open As soon as they have departed, the
gentlemen draw near to the fire, and- Kitson says, "Let us be comfortable,"
and puts on the table such wines as weak woman is unable to appreciate.

I847.]

A DINNER PARTY.

THE COMIC ALMANAC.

Then come Claret, Old Port, and Politics, and with the sixth bottle they
begin discussing Moral Philosophy. Mrs. Kitson's health is at length pro-
posed by the family Doctor, who speaks of her as "the exemplary wife-
the tender mother-and the woman whom to know is to admire, ay! and he
would say-to love." And then Kitson wants words to express his feelings
for the honour they have done him, and winds up his catalogue of Mrs. K.'s
virtues with a tear. Now "the exemplary wife upstairs gets nervous
about her husband and the wine below, and sends the footman in every ten
minutes to say that Tea is ready." Suddenly the ladies commence sing-
ing, and the family Doctor, who lives but to please, proposes to join them.
As soon as the gentlemen have retired upstairs, Kitson, who remains below,
carefully locks up the remnants of the fruit and wine, and reminds Master
K. of that little affair of the Champagne, and trusts he may never have to
speak to him on that subject again. Then the gentlemen upstairs ask
each lady in turn to oblige them with a song, and after considerable difficulty,
prevail upon Mrs. Kitson's unmarried sister to favour them with Did you
ne'er hear of Kate Kearney;" but unfortunately the nuts spoil the runs.
And then the gentlemen begin to have a strong inclination for Sofas and
forty winks, and will put their nasty greasy heads" on the bright yellow
satin damask cushions. And then the company grows very silent; so that.
Kitson, who can't get up his rubber, is not sorry when he hears the Coal and
Potato Warehouseman announce the first carriage. Then comes the hunt-
ing for Cloaks, and the running for Cabs, and the giving generous shillings
and very generous half-crowns to the Coal and Potato Warehouseman, who is
very careful to be at the door as each party is leaving. At length they have
all gone, and Kitson tells his better half to see the plate right, and retires
to bed.
Next morning he is very surly all breakfast, and very late for businebbs,
and Mrs. K. speaks out about the quantity of wine that was drunk; and the
family, much to the delight of the little K.'s, have the remainder of the jel-
lies, and other good things, for dinner all the next week.

PEOPLE ONE MEETS IN SOCIETY.

No. 1.
THE YOUNG GENTLEMAN WHO HAS JUST GOT HIS COMMISSION.
Do you see that young man at the top of the quadrille, dancing with that
pretty flaxen-haired girl? That's Arthur Bumpshus; he has just got his
commission; though one might guess as much, for he's paying more atten-
tion to himself, as you perceive, than to his partner, and he holds his coat by
both of the lapels, so as to keep it off his shoulders, while he puffs out his
chest like a pouter pigeon. His hair too, you observe, is cut very short
behind, and frizzed out at the sides, and stuck up at the top, with the true

L1847.

PEOPLE ONE MEETS IN SOCIETY.

military effect; and whenever his partner speaks to him he looks down on
the floor, and, inclining his head slightly on one side, listens with a haughty
frown.
The quadrille is over, and now here he comes. Hark! he's talking to the
flaxen-haired girl about Chatham, and the Provisional Battalion, and the
Mess, larding his conversation with as many military technicalities as he can
possibly cram into it, though, between you and me, he has not yet joined his
regiment, and has dined only once-or twice at the outside-at Chatham.
He says, too, that it's deuced unpleasant being bottled up in uniform this hot
weather, though we know for a fact that his own regimentals are not yet
finished, and that he means "to let out at the tailor above a bit' for disap-
pointing him with his things for this evening. When however a fiernd asks-
him how it is that he does not appear en militaire, he replies, Oh, when a
man (rich that, for a boy of eighteen!) is forced to wear uniform he natu-
rally prefers being in Mufti whenever he can."
He walks across the room digging his heels down at every step with a
ferocity intended to inspire all beholders with a high idea of his determina-
tion, and asks, when a person's name is mentioned, whether he's in "the
Service;" and, on being told to the contrary, speaks of him ever afterwards
as a Civilian." And when the host's young nephew, who is home for the
holidays, accidentally treads on the toe of Mr. Arthur Bumpshus's Patent
Leather Boots, Mr. A. B. frowns in a way that makes the poor youth in the
jacket tremble again in his pumps; for the young military gentleman is
anxious to distinguish himself for his valour in the eyes of his friends.
He will not allow the engraver to have any peace until he sends home
Mr. Arthur Bumpshus's cards, with the No. of his regiment printed upon
them; and, when he gets them, Mr. A. B. goes the whole round of his
acquaintance, and calls at the house of each of his friends at a time when he
hopes they are in the park, so that he may have an opportunity of leaving
them one of the bits of glazed pasteboard which announces that he has got
his Commission..
He also pays a visit to Laurie, for the purpose of ordering his saddle; and
hearing Major Splatterdash, of "the Heavies," swear at the saddler for
something which is not quite to the Major's satisfaction, the young gentle-
man follows his brother-officer's example, and gets a not very gentle hint
from the tradesman, that unless he can behave himself he had better leave
the shop; for though Laurie may consider it worth his while to pocket an
insult from a Major of ten years' standing, it does not exactly answer his
purpose to do the like with a sucking ensign.
In short, the young military gentleman persists in making himself as
obnoxious as possible to all people, with the view of impressing them with
his importance, though he forgets that while he is endeavouring to play the
Lion, the Ass's bray continually betrays him.

No. 2.
THE YACHTING MAN.
"Beg your pardon! hope I've not hurt you; but you were right in the
gangway !" exclaims a light-haired, blue-coated specimen of humanity, as he
enters the ball-room, and treads on the feet, and grinds the head of one of
the guests against the door-post he fancies he is ornamenting; and then he
rushes violently up to the lady of the house, and shakes her hand with
a vehemence more cordial than comme-il-faut;" and then, turning to the

THE COMIC ALMANAC.

Then come Claret, Old Port, and Politics, and with the sixth bottle they
begin discussing Moral Philosophy. Mrs. Kitson's health is at length pro-
posed by the family Doctor, who speaks of her as "the exemplary wife-
the tender mother-and the woman whom to know is to admire, ay! and he
would say-to love." And then Kitson wants words to express his feelings
for the honour they have done him, and winds up his catalogue of Mrs. K.'s
virtues with a tear. Now "the exemplary wife upstairs gets nervous
about her husband and the wine below, and sends the footman in every ten
minutes to say that Tea is ready." Suddenly the ladies commence sing-
ing, and the family Doctor, who lives but to please, proposes to join them.
As soon as the gentlemen have retired upstairs, Kitson, who remains below,
carefully locks up the remnants of the fruit and wine, and reminds Master
K. of that little affair of the Champagne, and trusts he may never have to
speak to him on that subject again. Then the gentlemen upstairs ask
each lady in turn to oblige them with a song, and after considerable difficulty,
prevail upon Mrs. Kitson's unmarried sister to favour them with Did you
ne'er hear of Kate Kearney;" but unfortunately the nuts spoil the runs.
And then the gentlemen begin to have a strong inclination for Sofas and
forty winks, and will put their nasty greasy heads" on the bright yellow
satin damask cushions. And then the company grows very silent; so that.
Kitson, who can't get up his rubber, is not sorry when he hears the Coal and
Potato Warehouseman announce the first carriage. Then comes the hunt-
ing for Cloaks, and the running for Cabs, and the giving generous shillings
and very generous half-crowns to the Coal and Potato Warehouseman, who is
very careful to be at the door as each party is leaving. At length they have
all gone, and Kitson tells his better half to see the plate right, and retires
to bed.
Next morning he is very surly all breakfast, and very late for businebbs,
and Mrs. K. speaks out about the quantity of wine that was drunk; and the
family, much to the delight of the little K.'s, have the remainder of the jel-
lies, and other good things, for dinner all the next week.

PEOPLE ONE MEETS IN SOCIETY.

No. 1.
THE YOUNG GENTLEMAN WHO HAS JUST GOT HIS COMMISSION.
Do you see that young man at the top of the quadrille, dancing with that
pretty flaxen-haired girl? That's Arthur Bumpshus; he has just got his
commission; though one might guess as much, for he's paying more atten-
tion to himself, as you perceive, than to his partner, and he holds his coat by
both of the lapels, so as to keep it off his shoulders, while he puffs out his
chest like a pouter pigeon. His hair too, you observe, is cut very short
behind, and frizzed out at the sides, and stuck up at the top, with the true

L1847.

host, apologizes for being so late, declaring that he had carried away every
stitch of canvas he could stagger under, and would have made the house half-
an-hour before, but he'd had a capsize in a cab, and it took him some time to
get under weigh again.
Then he mixes in the crowd, and on closer inspection, you perceive by the
bright buttons on his blue coat, which have a crown and anchor and some
inscription upon them, that he belongs to one of the Royal Yacht Clubs;
while the same bright buttons with the same crown and anchor, &c., only a
size smaller, adorning his white waistcoat, tell you that he is not ashamed
of it.
From his conversation we are made acquainted with the important fact
that there had been a match that day at Erith, and that his yacht must have
won only his gaff-topsail was carried away in a squall; and we learn, more-
over, that he fully sympathizes with Lord Freshwater, who would have come
in a good second had not a Hatch Boat run right into his starboard-bow, and
driven her bowsprit clean through his lordship's balloon-jib. And then he
tells the listeners a remarkably funny story of a friend of his, who went for a
cruise with him, and would persist in calling going on deck" "going up-
stairs;" whereat the yachting man laughs immoderately, and takes care all
the evening through to term "going downstairs," going below."
He does not dance much, but whenever he does stand up for a Quadrille he
talks very loud to his partner, saying, Aye, aye," to all her questions; and
he rushes to the refreshment-room with her directly the dance is over, where
he does not restrict himself to negus and ices, but attacks the port wine at
once.
During the supper he does not do much until the ladies have left, and then
he falls to with surprising vigour, and calling the footman on one side, in-
quires whether there is any malt to be had. When the beer arrives he pro-
fesses an intense contempt for champagne, and says that as far as he is
concerned a glass of two-water grog is better than all the wine in the Docks,
especially when one's on deck at night; all which causes the younger men of
the party to look upon him as a very dashing sort of a fellow. And if by any
chance he is asked for a song, he is sure to squall I'm afloat," or "A Life on
the Ocean Wave," though his knowledge of such a state of existence must be
very limited, for he has seldom been beyond the Nore, and at farthest to
Ramsgate,-excepting, by-the-by, once, when we believe he did get as far as
the Isle of Wight, during the Cowes Regatta. Nevertheless, a life in his
father's country-house would be more in character with his habits.
And when the party is breaking up the Yachting Man is seen in the Hall
putting on a very rough Pea-Jacket, with large horn buttons, and a cap with
a gold-lace band round it. He says something about it's being time to turn
in, as four bells have gone; and having lit a cigar at the hall-lamp, he finally
disappears, chanting-
Good-night -All's well."

[1847.

THE COMIC ALMANAC.

j O s/vc f- a Pe Pe'

e we e r ..u -
.3, o t "-- --- --- ." --'

~Z~i~i77~I
I

A GOOD PENNY-WORTH.

-^

~c 'Cii

	Front Cover
	Front Matter
	Half Title
	Frontispiece
	Title Page
	The comic almanack for 1847
	Back Matter
	Back Cover

MILLISECOND	CLASS.METHOD	MESSAGE
0	sobekcm_page_globals.constructor
0	sobekcm_page_globals.constructor	Application State validated or built
0	sobekcm_database.verify_item_lookup_object
0	sobekcm_page_globals.constructor	Navigation Object created from URI query string
0	sobekcm_database.verify_item_lookup_object
0	sobekcm_page_globals.display_item	Retrieving item or group information
0	sobekcm_page_globals.get_entire_collection_hierarchy	Retrieving hierarchy information
0	sobekcm_assistant.get_entire_collection_hierarchy
0	cached_data_manager.retrieve_item_aggregation
0	cached_data_manager.retrieve_item_aggregation	Found item aggregation on local cache
0	item_aggregation_builder.get_item_aggregation	Found 'all' item aggregation in cache
0	system.web.ui.page.page_load (ufdc.page_load)
0	sobekcm_page_globals.constructor.on_page_load
0	html_echo_mainwriter.add_style_references	Adding style references to HTML
0	html_echo_mainwriter.add_text_to_page	Reading the text from the file and echoing back to the output stream
68	html_echo_mainwriter.add_text_to_page	Finished reading and writing the file