[_The following Extracts from the Proceedings of this illustrious
Body, at the Meeting of 1840, will be read, no doubt, with the
interest they deserve._]
Some very curious statistical and general reports were made by Mr.
Colley Wobble, on the street refreshments of London. It appeared that
the proportion of baked potatoe receptacles, or, as they were commonly
termed, "hot tator cans," over kidney-pudding stalls, was as six to one.
Of these cans one in seven was surmounted with lamps; one in three had a
spare valve, to let off steam; and five out of nine used condensed
Dorset scrapings, averaging about fourpence per pound. The
kidney-pudding stalls appeared to confine their stations to the
neighbourhoods of the minor theatres, and he could trace the effect of
their nourishing principle in those thrilling and passionate outbursts,
which melodramatic actors threw into such phrases as—"It _is_ my
daughter!" "Begone, sir! and learn not to insult virtuous poverty;" and
the like class. Some of the stalls were embellished with singularly
curious transparent lanterns, representing theatrical subjects on their
four sides.
Mr. Bobbledabs inquired what species of light was burnt inside these
transparencies?
Mr. Colley Wobble defined it as produced by the combustion of
atmospheric air, acting on a half-consumed continuity of a twopenny
thick, set in argillaceous candlesticks. He was led to make these
observations from having perceived a hole burnt in the lantern, where
the candle had tumbled over. The learned gentleman added, in
continuation, that one of the most favourite exhibitions was "Kerim and
Sanballat fighting for a kidney-pudding, from Timour the Tartar." He had
likewise observed William Tell shooting a kidney-pudding from Albert's
head, and Mr. Stickney riding five kidney-puddings at once for a horse—
he meant to say—that is—the Association would know what he meant.
Mr. Snuffantupenny inquired if these piquant preparations were
expensive?
Mr. Colley Wobble estimated the general price at one penny each. When
purchased, the vendor made a hole in them with the nail of his little
finger, and poured in some warm compound, out of a blacking-bottle, with
a quill in the cork. The liquid had been analyzed by Mr. Faraway, and
was found to contain one part fat, one part furniture oil, two parts
infusion of melt, and sixteen parts of hot water, with dirt in solution.
Mr. Gambado then read a talented paper on "The imaginary barrier
precluding pickled whelks from the tables of the aristocracy;" and
having finished, he begged to propose a Committee of Inquiry—why boiled
crabs were sold at three a penny in Union Street, Middlesex Hospital,
when you might purchase four, for the same sum, on Kennington Common?
Mr. Bobbledabs trusted his talented friend would remember that
Kennington Common was nearer the sea-coast than Union Street.
Mr. Gambado sat corrected. While they were on the subject, however, he
wished to say a few words on the connexion supposed to exist between the
anatomical school of the said hospital—that was to say, the Middlesex—
and the number of shops for the sale of old bones and doctors' phials,
with which Union Street abounded; and why so many dissecting cases were
to be seen in the window of the pop-shop at the corner.
Dr. Corfe thought the reason was obvious. The scalpels hybernated with
the watches towards the end of November, and the students were thus,
unavoidably driven to use penknives for lancets, and the small ends of
tobacco-pipes for probes and blowpipes.
THE
COMIC ALMANACK
FOR 1842.