"With many holiday and _court-like_ phrase—"
_Shakespeare's Henry IV., Part I._
MISS ARABELLA WILHELMINA WIGGINs is the pattern of gentility:
She never utters vulgar words, but talks just like nobility.
I met her at Vauxhall, last year, and she gave me a sad relation
About Miss Briggs: I recollect it every word;—but here's her own
narration:
"Oh, dear! my dear Miss Popkins! have you heard what befel Miss B.?
(I wish, Papa, you'd get _up to snuff_ the lights; one can hardly see:
Oh, la! you've made 'em _flare up so_, I declare we are quite in a
blaze:
And, bless me! there's all the people staring at us, all in amaze!)
I'll tell you, while Papa is taking his _punch_; _his pipkin_ he calls
the bowl,
(You _make yourself scarce_ any punch at home, Papa; so I suppose
you'll drink the whole).
I'm sure he will, Miss P.; and even then he wont have quench'd his
drouth.
(I really wonder, Pa', how you can pour so much punch _down in the
mouth_.)
But how I rattle on! quite forgetting all about Miss B.
You must know we were on a visit at a country cousin's; and after tea
We stroll'd about with Mr. Timbs, and Mr. Figgins, and Mr. Oddy;—
I declare _there he goes with his eye out_-staring every body.
Poor fellow! he has but one, for the other's made of glass;
'Twas a sad accident; and I'll tell you how it came to pass:—
One night, he went out rabbit-_shooting_; _the moon_ was shining
bright;
His gun was overloaded and bursted; and so one eye lost its sight.
Well, Miss Briggs is a very bold girl; as bold a girl as one knows;
And as we were walking along, the laundress caught _my eye; and_
'_Betty Martin_,' says Miss B., '_where do you hang out_ your clothes?'
She came to a well after that; and, really, I am almost ashamed to
tell,
But, upon my word, she behav'd exceedingly ill about that well.
She began to _kick the bucket_; and to a man who was chopping down a
tree,
She said: 'What are you with that _axe about_?' which was very rude
indeed of Miss B.;
And when he left off chopping, she said, 'Why don't you _cut your
stick_?'
The man was just then chopping a piece of wood that was thick.
Now this made him quite confus'd; and in his hurry his skill to show
off,
He made a slip with his axe, and chopped poor Miss Brigg's little toe
off.
The shock gave me such a terrible pain all over _my eyes and limbs_,
That I really should have fainted, if it hadn't been for that dear Mr.
Timbs.
Poor Frederick Figgins was so affected that I vow he began to cry;
I'm sure he did, for I was close to him, and I saw a _drop in his eye_.
He's a _nice young man_; and _I shouldn't wonder_ if he soon married
Miss Briggs:
Her father is a coarsish man, and says he shall, _please the pigs_.
He wasn't very gracious, tho', at first, to Mr. Figgins;
For when he ask'd his consent, he said to him (I had the whole story
from Mr. Higgins)
'_How are you off? for soap_ and candles, and such-like, got me all my
money;
And for my daughter to marry a poor man wouldn't be vastly funny.
_How's your mother_ left you; or have you your fortune to get?
If you have _I wish you may get it_ soon; but I can't let you marry
Miss Bet;
But while I'm describing his bluntness, I'm wand'ring away from my
point.
The limbs of my relation are indeed terribly out of joint.
Well, Mr. Figgins help'd Miss B. home to _hop_: _the twig_, which
happen'd to lay across her foot,
Sav'd her other toes, to be sure, but there was a terrible large gash
in her boot.
But poor Mr. F.! how he _fretted_! _his fat_ cheeks than a mummy's were
thinner;
He never could eat any breakfast, and seldom could eat any dinner.
His eyes were once bright as a _star_: _the glaze_ on them now was
quite ghostly;
A cloud seem'd to _darken his day_—_light_some and gay he'd been
mostly.
A party he join'd at Vauxhall; but its gaieties fail'd to delight him:
He did nothing but swallow rack-punch; as to eating, 'twas vain to
invite him.
He call'd to his friend: '_Jemmy Johnson, squeeze me_ a lemon;' and
turning to me then,
He said, in a voice that quite shock'd me, and looking as wild as a
heathen:
'My spirits I cannot _keep up; your pluck_'d flowers droop slower than
I do;
I'm sure that I make _no mistake_,—my fate will be that of poor Dido.'
(I declare I am talking pentameters; quite forgetting you're not a Blue
Stocking;
But that I am sure you'll excuse.)—Well, isn't the story quite
shocking?
Miss Briggs, tho', got quite well at last; to the dolefuls he bade
adieu quickly;
Yet a long while he talk'd of her death, though he no longer look'd
mournful and sickly.
'_All round my hat_, while I liv'd,' he said, 'a crape hatband I
should have worn,—
_A shocking bad hat_, to be sure; but just fit for a lover forlorn.
Think what would have been my despair, with no consolation to go to!
But tho' I have not lost her quite, yet, alas! I have lost her in
_toe-toe_.'"
Paragraphs Extraordinary.
[ADVERTISEMENT.]—We never admit puffs into our paper in any disguise or
under any circumstances, for we are sure that "the man who would make"
_a puff_ "would pick a pocket." It is a love for veracity alone that
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for renewing decayed TEETH is the most wonderful and surprisingly
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rejoice, who have only a colt's tooth in their heads, when they are
told, that by sowing this panacea in their gums overnight, a fine crop
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from our own experience; and whereas, before we used this extraordinary
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matter that now troubles us is how to get food for our teeth.
* * * * *
ACCIDENTS.—We are happy to state that there is a great diminution in the
number of accidents in the past week. Only 250 persons have been drowned
by steam-boats; 320 women and children burnt to death by their clothes
catching fire; 560 run over by omnibusses and cabs; 252 poisoned by
taking oxalic acid instead of salts; 360 scalded to death by the
bursting of steam-boilers; 200 blown to atoms by the explosion of
powder-mills; and about 100—there or thereabouts—stabbed by drunken
soldiers, off duty; all which evinces a great increase of vigilance,
carefulness, and humanity, highly creditable to all parties concerned.
[Illustration:
FEBRUARY.—"Transfer Day at the Bank."
]
┌─────────────┬───────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│1836.] │ FEBRUARY. │
├─────────────┼───────────────────────────────────────────────────────┤
│ │Look, Mrs. B——, what a crowd I see, │
│ │ And the bells they make such a clatter; │
│ │And the people run, and I hear a gun! │
│ │ Whatever can be the matter? │
│ │ │
│ │Mrs. C——, my dear, it's no good, I fear, │
│ │ For us honest women and our spouses, │
│ │For the people say, the King's going to-day, │
│ │ To open two _very bad houses_. │
├──┬──────────┼──────────────────────────────────────────┬────────────┤
│ M│ Season's │ =Odd Matters.= │ WEATHER. │
│ D│ Signs. │ │ │
├──┼──────────┼──────────────────────────────────────────┼────────────┤
│ 1│In │ │ │
│ │ │ │ │
│ 2│this │ "TRANSFER DAY." │ other │
│ │ │ │ │
│ 3│gay │As I was walking past the Bank, │ matters, │
│ │ │ (I know not why I stroll'd that way,) │ │
│ 4│month │I saw a lady tall and lank, │ ☽ ☍ │
│ │ │ With golden ringlets mix'd with grey; │ │
│ 5│I │And as she tripp'd, or strove to trip, │ ☋ ♅ ♑ ♎ ⚹ │
│ │ │ Adown the steps, so light and gay, │ │
│ 6│would │The greasy granite made her slip, │ so │
│ │ │ And down she fell on TRANSFER DAY. │ │
│ 7│not │ │ worthily │
│ │ │I rais'd her up with gallant air; │ │
│ 8│choose │ For I'm a Major on half-pay, │ stepped │
│ │ │Who only live to serve the fair, │ │
│ 9│to │ At any time, in any way: │ │
│ │ │And while she blush'd a purple hue, │ │
│10│walk │ Her eyes obliquely shot a ray, │ ♃ ☉ ♐ ♋ ♉ │
│ │ │Which seem'd to say, "You will not rue │ │
│11│the │ Your service on a TRANSFER DAY." │ into the │
│ │ │ │ │
│12│streets │And while the glance she threw at me │shoes of my │
│ │ │ Was thro' my heart a-making way; │ │
│13│in │I straight began a colloquy, │ │
│ │ │ And to myself I thus did say: │ │
│14│dancing │If tradesmen, when their bills they bring,│ │
│ │ │ Would be contented with _half-pay_; │ ♊ ☿ ⚹ │
│15│shoes │I'd soar aloft on freedom's wing, │ │
│ │ │ Nor care a rush for TRANSFER DAY. │ renowned │
│16│nor │ │ │
│ │ │But needy men the needful need; │ │
│17│would │ So, spite of ringlets golden grey, │ │
│ │ │And eyes that squint, I'll take the hint, │ ☍ ☿ │
│18│I │ Nor throw the lucky chance away. │ │
│ │ │Full soon I found—ah! pleasing sound!— │predecessor,│
│19│for │ With wealth she could my love repay; │ │
│ │ │No longer mute, I urg'd my suit, │ │
│20│the │ Upon that very TRANSFER DAY. │ │
│ │ │ │ ♀ ♂ ☿ │
│21│world │I leave untold our courtship fond:— │ │
│ │ │ I made her Mrs. Major Cox; │ the great │
│22│be │And in return for Hymen's _bond_, │ │
│ │ │ She kindly placed me in the _stocks_. │ FRANCIS │
│23│seen │Her heart is good, her temper mild; │ │
│ │ │ She rules with more than _sov'reign_ │ MOORE, │
│ │ │ sway; │ │
│24│to │Nor have I thought myself beguil'd, │ │
│ │ │ Or once regretted TRANSFER DAY. │ =Defunct=, │
│25│trip │ │ │
│ │ │ │ │
│26│along │ │ │
│ │ │ │ ♊ ☌ ⊕ ♓ │
│27│in │ │ │
│ │ │ │which shoes,│
│28│light │ │ │
│ │ │ │by-the-bye, │
│29│nankeen. │ │ │
└──┴──────────┴──────────────────────────────────────────┴────────────┘
_Humbuggum Ass-trologicum, pro Anno 1836._
_VOX MULTORUM, VOX STULTORUM: the Voice of the Many is the Voice of
a Zany.—It brawleth at all Places and Seasons._
[Illustration]