"Well, what do you think of the Weather?"
(_Smith, whom we meet frequently._)
The English, climate, so long considered a capital joke, is becoming a
very serious matter. They were not Dog-Days last summer; they were
Hyæna, Kangaroo, Elephant, Boa-Constrictor days.
If so unnatural a state of things is to be repeated, England will no
longer occupy her present position in the world. She will be somewhere
else. There will be no place like home. Home itself will not bear the
slightest resemblance to it. We shall be all abroad—every British child
will be born a foreigner.
Nationality will be at an end. With the loss of our climate, on which
the British Constitution so closely depends, it is impossible that we
should continue to be the same people.
What will avail the boast that Britons never never shall be slaves, when
there is such an immediate likelihood of their becoming niggers?
Our isolated position makes the prospect all the more alarming. The
country must be in a continual state of hot water.
The Comic is not, strictly speaking, a Weather Almanack. Still the heat
of last summer made us so uncomfortable (we do not mean merely in a
physical sense), that we thought it our duty to inquire into the matter.
We have, therefore, condescended on this occasion to look into futurity
with a weather eye, of which we hasten to present the reader with a few
"shoots,"—such, we believe, being the term usually applied to the
natural emanations from the eyes of a Murphy.
We regret to say our worst fears have been confirmed. The page in the
Book of Destiny that has been opened to our inspection is closely
printed, and presents the aspect of a number of the _Times_, dated
August 2nd, 1980. We leave our readers to form their own opinions on the
following extracts:—
THE WEATHER AND THE CROPS.—The season continues to be unusually
backward. The plantains in the neighbourhood of Wolverhampton have
scarcely passed the flower. The cotton fields, however, of the West
Riding are in a healthy condition—several trees being already in
pod. It is feared that there will be a great loss in consequence of
the dearth of labourers. It is true that immigration from Iceland,
Nova Zembla, and the manufacturing countries generally, continues to
a great extent; but nothing can atone for the impossibility of
arousing the native slave population to exertion. The prospects of
sugar are far from satisfactory, the siroccos of the last month
having completely devastated the plantations—the canes on Clapham
Common present a disastrous spectacle! The bread-fruit trees on
Blackheath promise an abundant supply of half-quarterns.
[Illustration:
"_Taking care of Number One_"—_or_—
_A Gentleman endeavouring to keep "Number One"—_out_ of "S^t. Paul's
Church Yard"_
]
FRIGHTFUL ACCIDENT.—On Wednesday last, Mr. Edward Jackson, landlord
of the "Cocoa-Nut," Tottenham Court Road, having had the imprudence
to bathe in the Serpentine, was attacked by a ferocious alligator,
who devoured both his legs so as to make amputation, we regret to
say, unnecessary.
ENORMOUS PALM CABBAGE.—A gigantic specimen of this national plant
grown in the open air by a native slave named Higgins, in the little
garden attached to his shanty, was exhibited on Tuesday at the
meeting of the Agricultural Society. It measured six feet in
circumference, and weighed twenty-three pounds four ounces. A medal
was awarded to the grower, and was accepted by the Rajah Simpson,
his owner, whose family subsequently dined off the cabbage,
expressing themselves highly gratified.
SPORTING INTELLIGENCE.—His Majesty's elephants threw off yesterday
from Richmond Park at four o'clock in the morning (the absurd
old-world custom of sporting and transacting business in the heat of
the day having, we are happy to say, exploded among the intelligent
classes); a fine tiger was scented in the jungles of Slave Common,
and soon broke cover. The run was a short one. "Puss" was brought to
bay among the bamboos of Isleworth swamp, and speared by Coolies
Walker and Smithers (eating, by the way, a considerable portion of
the latter). His Majesty was in at the death, and returned to tiffin
at 8 A.M.
HEALTH OF THE METROPOLIS.—The deaths in the metropolis during the
last week, as certified by the Registrar-General, are as follows:—