JAN. 9.—At a general meeting of the Governors of Christ's Hospital, Sir
John Soane's splendid architectural design for a new gateway to the
school was adopted, with one dissentient only, to whom it was conceded,
at his special request, that his _protégé_ should be allowed to enter
through a _Pipe of Port_.
FEB. 10.—An eminent apothecary in the New Road attended at Marylebone
office to prosecute his errand boy, who, when sent out with medicine,
being versed in Shakspeare, used to "throw physic to the dogs," and sell
the empty bottles: the boy had spent the money in going to see the
Bottle Imp. The doctor said his suspicions were first excited by finding
his patients suddenly getting well. His worship at first threatened the
culprit with the pillory and the black-hole; but afterwards changed the
sentence into pills and a black draught, as more severe, and desired his
master to take him home and dose him.
MARCH 10.—A young lady at the Bucks county ball was apparently seized
with convulsions in the midst of a quadrille. Her mamma ran to her
assistance, and matters were soon restored. It seems that, her waist
having been reduced to the minimum of magnitude, she was always obliged
to be unhooked behind before she could sneeze.
MAY 25.—An elderly Gentleman was charged with having kissed a Lady for a
Lark, in the fields near Kentish Town. He was fined five shillings for
not being a better naturalist, with an admonition from the worthy
magistrate, that most of the birds in that district belonged to the
order "Pass-er."
JUNE 23.—The splendid pair of yahoos, recently presented to the
So-oh!-logical Society by the Duke of C——, have shown such extraordinary
apt-ness, under the influence of example and good society, that on
Sunday last, after having been submitted to the respective operations of
Mr. Stulz and Madame Carson, they were allowed to walk out among the
fashionables, when they deported themselves so well, that none but those
in the secret could distinguish them from the rest of the company.
JULY 15.—The torrents which ushered in the morning led many to believe
that, as this was the first day of St. Swithin's _reign_, so he had also
selected it for his coronation; and in this they were confirmed by the
streaming of the people along the streets, and the _wringing_ of the
_Belles_.
AUG. 26.—At the meeting of the British Association, at Bristol,
Professor Buckland announced, as an indisputable fact, that the
antediluvians kept cows, and vended their produce as we do; for, in the
plains of Bul-garia, he had recently discovered a petrified milk walk,
with a fragment of a fossil pump-handle at the end of it.
SEPT. 1.—A sporting Cockney was unlucky enough to hit a cow in the calf
of her leg, at Hornsey. She was no sooner in a limp than he was in a
hobble, and he found to his cost that leg of beef is not always to be
peppered with impunity.
SEPT. 12.—Mr. Curtis announced his intention of standing for the Borough
of _Eye_, in the event of a dissolution of Parliament, and made his
opening speech to the voters amidst cries of "_Ear! Ear!_"
OCT. 10.—"Found, a healthy male Infant," &c., &c. That ancient _sine quâ
non_ to persons crossing the seas, a child's _caul_, is now a mere drug
in the market. Instead of making it a _compagnon de voyage_, numbers
cross the seas to avoid it. A child's _call_, in high preservation, may
be picked up on any moonlight night, in any blind alley where you see
"Rubbish to be shot here." A handbill headed "Desertion," formerly a
monstrosity of un-English shape, is now a forme that the parish printer
always keeps standing; and the beadles dryly observe, that they are
become wet nurses to the children of half the parish. The Honourable
Commissioners of the mechanical powers, Messrs. Leave-er, Wedge, and
Screw, are indefatigable in fulfilling the intentions of their employers
who have devised this happy state of things, to save themselves and
their hopeful heirs from the unpleasant necessity of answering "A
child's call."
NOV. 2.—A resolution was carried in the Common Council not to allow any
more money for summer excursions on the water. The minority said they
dreaded the vengeance of the ladies, and many members returned home in a
very unhappy state, looking anxiously about for inscriptions of "Broken
crockery mended here;" for they knew, by past experience, that man is
the vessel that goes to pot when it comes to family jars.
* * * * *
_Our revels concluded, a merry farewell
To all but a few irreclaimable sinners,
Who, if they were honest, might happen to tell
That they've had their deserts, tho' we've ruin'd their dinners._
THE
COMIC ALMANACK
FOR 1838.
MANNERS MADE EASY;
OR, HOW TO COBBLE A SILK PURSE OUT OF A SOW'S EAR.
"Γαμμον ανδ Σπιναγε."
Punctuality is essential to the character of a Gentleman. Early in the
New Year send peremptorily for all your bills. If they do not arrive in
a day or two, send again. By this exactness, you give your tradesmen
confidence, and ensure their civility for some time, in the hope of a
settlement. Having thus prevented any increase of charges, you can pay
at your leisure. I have heard of a gentleman whose aversion to the sight
of paper ruled in money columns had been indulged in as long as was
consistent with his personal safety, who thus addressed a creditor for
whom the _shut sesame_ of "call again" had lost its charm. "After having
for many years neglected my affairs, I have at length awakened to a
sense of my error, and have resolved, by a vigorous system of economy,
to retrieve them. Method, Sir, I now perceive that method is everything.
From this day I set apart a certain portion of my income sacred to the
payment of my debts."—"I am delighted, Sir, to hear of your noble
resolution."—"I have made a schedule of all I owe, and shall begin at
the top and persevere undeviatingly in regular though slow succession
towards the bottom:—so that you see, my dear Mr. Figgins"—"Sir, my name
is Wiggins"—"Wiggins! I had quite forgot; but I am sorry to hear it,
very sorry—for my list is alphabetical. Had it been Figgins, or even
Higgins, there would have been some chance for you, but the W's are so
very low down.—No, I cannot say when I shall reach the W's."
If you wish to refuse the request of an old friend or a poor relation,
but can hardly screw your courage to the sticking-place, put on a pair
of tight shoes, and you will find it perfectly easy.
Never introduce your friends to strangers without their consent, nor
permit such a liberty towards yourself, especially about November. Many
have been entrapped into the hands of John Doe and Richard Roe thereby,
unawares.
Choose rainy days to pay your visits on. You will thus show your
sincerity, and be less likely to miss callers at home. Take your cloak
and hat into the drawing-room—to leave them below would be like one of
the family—but, above all, carry in your umbrella; you have no right to
leave it streaming in another person's hall.
When you visit your maiden aunt, as you value your legacy expectant,
preserve an amiable face, and keep you hands and feet to yourself, while
her favourite tom cat reposes in you the height of his friendship by
looking you full in the face and vigorously stretching himself by the
aid of his ten talons hooked through your tight and tender kerseymeres.
Though you may be a Nabob, or as rich as one, be not too anxious to
parade your black servants before your friends, for both your sakes;
they have, in general, two bad qualities—"stealing and giving odour."—
Shakspeare, hem!
Never marry a widow (unless her first husband was hanged), or she will
be always drawing unpleasant comparisons.
Never refuse a pinch of snuff, but do not become a snuff-taker: it is
paying through the nose for a little pleasure.
Avoid argument with Ladies. In spinning a yarn among Silks and Satins, a
man is sure to be _Worsted_.
It is common to speak contemptuously of tailors and dress-makers. This
is bad taste; none but a rat would run down the sewers.
When a lady sits down to the pianoforte, always volunteer to turn over
the leaves. To be able to read music is of no consequence, as you will
know that she is at the bottom of a page when she stops short. If you
turn over two leaves at once, you will probably have the secret thanks
of most of the company.
When your friend enters the room instantly rise, and, though there may
be half a dozen unoccupied chairs at hand, draw him with gentle force
into your own. You will thus show the warmth of your friendship; for a
damp seat may be as bad as a damp bed.
In driving out never make a lady treasurer of the turnpike trusts;—or,
when you want twopence for a toll, you have to wait while the reticule
string is snapped in two; then, out comes a lace-edged white muslin
worked pocket-handkerchief, a pair of lemon-coloured kid-gloves, a
smelling-bottle, a bunch of keys, and, to crown all, a five-shilling
piece to change. All this time you are stuck fast in the jaws of a
turnpike gate, the Brighton Quicksilver in your rear, driver raving at
your back, leaders snorting over your shoulder.
Never plan a pic-nic, on pain of skulking about the town for six months
after, dreading to meet, at every turn, the infuriated looks of the
bereaved parents of half a dozen little innocents in white frocks and
trousers, who have been washed away by an inundation; or to encounter
the menacing glances of budding heroes, fierce in the rudiments of
moustaches and chin-tufts, whose Celias and Delias have dropped into a
decline through sitting on the damp grass at your instigation.
Never hesitate to take a friend with you when you go out to dinner.
Disappointments are so frequent that the lady of the house may perhaps
be glad of a spare gentleman to fill up a gap.
In carving, remember that "'twere well it were done quickly." He must
be, therefore, the best carver who soonest fills the greatest number of
plates. Waste no time in asking if people like a wing or a leg, this bit
or that—many do not know their minds on any subject. Besides, as they
cannot all have the prime cuts, nothing but discontent can ensue from
giving them the choice.
As too much of a good thing is morally impossible, fill the plates well—
the delicate can leave half, and the modest are saved the unpleasantness
of a second application; besides making the hostess your eternal friend,
if, through your management in the outset, some of the dishes go away
uncut for another day.
Always return into the dish, before it goes from table, any portion of a
ragout that your friends may leave in their plates. It is ten to one if
your careless servants think of doing so afterwards.
Instead of waiting for the dessert, let your children come in with the
first course—they cannot be used to good society too soon. They will
furnish topics for conversation, and if any present be vulgar enough to
require a second supply of soup, when the tureen is at low water mark,
they will probably relieve your embarrassment by upsetting it, and so
dispose of the question.
Help the darlings first—they are dearer to you than mere visitors, to
whom you might, otherwise, inadvertently transfer some delicate bits on
which the little cherubs had set their minds.
Do not detain the toothpick long after dinner—it's unpleasant to be kept
waiting for it.
If a lady request you to select an apple for her, bite a piece out. How
can you recommend it without?
Always wipe the brim of a pot of porter with your sleeve, if you are
about to hand it to a lady.