THE
COMIC ALMANACK
For 1835.
PRELUDIUM.
SCENE.—An Apartment in the House of Francis Moore, in which that renowned Physician and Astrologer is discovered, lying at the point of death. The Nurse is holding up his head, while a skilful Mediciner is dispensing a potion. Sundry Old Women surround his couch, in an agony of grief. The Astrologer starteth up in a paroxysm of rage.
[The scene openeth, and discovereth the Shade of the great Astrologer, Lilly, enveloped in a fog, who claspeth Francis Moore in his arms, and mizzleth off with him in a mist.—N.B. The renowned Physician droppeth his threadbare mantle, which falleth on Rigdum Funnidos, who maketh his exit therewith joyfully.
| JANUARY. | [1835. | ||
|---|---|---|---|
| When you first go to bathe, gentle Sir, in a river, | |||
| If you dip in one foot, it will give you a shiver; | |||
| But if you've the pluck to plunge in your whole body, | |||
| You'll not shiver at all, you poor timid noddy! | |||
| Just so with my rhymes,—I've got thro' my first trouble: | |||
| Had I stood shilly-shally, my toil had been double. | |||
| M | Season's | Odd Matters. | WEATHER. |
| D | Signs. | ||
| 1 | toes | ||
| 2 | nose | COMFORTS OF THE SEASON. | Weather |
| 3 | froze | Chilblains sore on all your toes, | likely |
| Icicles hang from your nose | |||
| 4 | blue | Rheumatis' in all your limbs; | ☍ ☌ △ ♄ |
| Noddle full of aches and whims; | |||
| 5 | who | Chaps upon your hands and lips, | to be |
| And lumbago in your hips. | |||
| 6 | you | To your bed you shiv'ring creep, | cold |
| There to freeze, but not to sleep; | |||
| 7 | ice | For the sheets, that look so nice, | |
| Are to you two sheets of ice; | □ ♃ △ ♂ | ||
| 8 | trice | Wearied out, at length you doze, | |
| And snatch, at last, a brief repose, | if | ||
| 9 | down | Dream all night that you're a dab, | |
| Lying on fishmonger's slab. | |||
| 10 | crown | While indulging in a snore, | the frost |
| There comes a rap at chamber door; | |||
| 11 | folk | Screaming voice of Betty cries: | |
| "If you please, it's time to rise." | △ ⚹ ☉ | ||
| 12 | joke | Up you start, and, on the sheet, | |
| Find your breath is chang'd to sleet; | is very old: | ||
| 13 | in | Tow'rds the glass you turn your view, | |
| Find your nose of purple hue, | |||
| 14 | grin | Looking very like, I trow, | If no snow |
| Beet-root in a field of snow. | |||
| 15 | out | You would longer lie, but nay, | ☿ ♄ △ ♂ □ |
| Time is come,—you must away. | |||
| 16 | shout | Out you turn, with courage brave, | |
| Slip on drawers,—and then to shave! | should | ||
| 17 | cram | Seize the jug, and in a trice, | |
| Find the water chang'd to ice: | chance to | ||
| 18 | ham | Break the ice, and have to rue | |
| That you've broke the pitcher too. | fall | ||
| 19 | jam | Water would not run before; | |
| Now, it streams upon the floor, | |||
| 20 | dram | Threat'ning with a fearful doom, | □ ☌ ⚹ ☉ |
| Ceiling of the drawing-room. | |||
| 21 | twelfth | In the frenzy of despair, | |
| You seize you don't know what, nor care, | then | ||
| 22 | night | Mop up all the wet and dirt, | |
| And find you've done it with your shirt; | perhaps | ||
| 23 | bright | Your only shirt,—all filth and slosh,— | |
| For all the rest are in the wash. | |||
| 24 | sight | Into bed you turn again, | ☿ △ ♂ ☉ ⚹ |
| Ring the bell with might and main, | |||
| 25 | bake | Stammer out to Betty, why | □ ♄ |
| 'Twixt the sheets you're forc'd to lie, | |||
| 26 | cake | 'Till, pitying your feelings hurt, | |
| She dabs you out another shirt. | no frost | ||
| 27 | nice | ||
| 28 | slice | ☉ □ △ | |
| 29 | twice | ||
| at all. | |||
| 30 | quaff | ||
| 31 | laugh | ♃ △ ☍ □ ♂ | |
ASS-TROLOGICAL PREDICTIONS.
I now proceed to put on my conjuring cap, and shew forth the wonders of the stars.
On looking at the moon, through my 500-horse power telescope, which magnifieth the planets 97,000,000 of times larger than life, I discern, that the march of intellect hath already travelled to that luminary; for I do distinctly perceive divers juveniles, of eighty years old and upwards, seated on stools, with horn-books in their hands. The Man in the Moon is also very busy, striving to metamorphose his sticks into brooms, to sweep away the cobwebs of ignorance therewith. Moreover, I do observe about half a million miles of cast-iron rail-road, in the direction of the earth, by which I do opine an inclination towards this planet. But there doth appear a great consternation amongst the other constellations, more especially in the Upper House, where Libra hath got into fiery opposition with Mars; and Saturn (who hath grown Grey) hath, in striving to part them, lost the skirts of his coat, and is glad to put up with a Spencer, whereby is clearly shadowed forth a fierce encounter between two great commanders. Let those, who think little of law and justice, read the 10,000 volumes of the Abridgment of the Statutes, and tremble!
Touching the affairs of Europe in general, I can say nothing in particular; excepting that I observe, that the Pope of Rome hath been furiously dealing forth his anathemas,[1] wherein he doth betray a most marvellous lack of wit; for doth he opine, that Christian folk are such calves as to be cow'd by a bull? Verily, it toucheth me sore, to note the silly doings of the crazy old beldame, who hath turned the world topsy-turvy for so many centuries, when she might gather her petticoats about her, and sit down in peace and quietness, by merely—my old friend and gossip, Poor Humphrey, sagaciously observeth,—just turning Protestant. And, in good sooth, when we come to think of it, there need be no quarrellings and bickerings on religious grounds, nor scruples for conscience' sake, in any part of the world, if all the Pagans, Hindoos, Mahometans, Jews and folks of every religion, and of no religion at all, were only just to make up their minds to do the same thing. And, pray, let me ask, what can be a more simple piece of advice?
1. The Abbé de la Mennais has roused the thunder of the Vatican by his Paroles d'un Croyant. The Pope has addressed an evangelical letter to the prelates of the Catholic world, in which the Abbé is compared with John Huss and Wickliff, and his Holiness says:—"We damn for ever this book of small size but huge depravity."—Morning Post, June, 1834.
THE GREAT COMET.
Though, touching Comets, Tycho Brahe, Kepler, Halley, Sir Isaac Newton, and others of that stamp, do deny their malign influence on mundane affairs, yet I, Rigdum Funnidos, holding in far greater reverence the wisdom of our ancestors, and the sage opinion of my renowned defunct predecessor, Francis Moore, do maintain, that they cast a sinister aspect on this terrestrial globe; yea, and do mightily, in a most adverse fashion, affect the same. Where-fore, I say, look, when the Great Comet cometh, for a sufficient reason, in the coming thereof, for every thing which shall happen contrariwise; whether it be the falling of kings, or the falling of stocks; the quarrels of nations, or the squabbles of matrimony; the crash of empires, or the smash of crockery; the tyranny of despots, or the scolding of wives:—yea, I do say again, place them all to the account of the Great Comet.
Hereafter do follow sundry matters, both pleasant and profitable.
ADVERTISEMENT EXTRAORDINARY.
MATRIMONY.—A highly respectable Gentleman, who has, for many years, distinguished himself as an important Public Functionary, is desirous of haltering his condition, and tying the knot of wedlock with a Lady of congenial sentiments. Having, himself, a very tender disposition, he stipulates for the same on the part of the object of his attachment; and as he is partial to good spirits, he hopes she will always have a stock. She must be duly impressed with a regard for the dignity of her husband's station, and must never associate with her inferiors, and whatever pledges she makes, she must be careful to redeem. The Advertiser is not very particular as to personal attractions; and with regard to money, he has seen so many people in a state of dependence, that he merely trusts she will come provided against such an unpleasant contingency. On these conditions, which are the gaol of his wishes, he will give the fair object of his affections her full swing, and be perfectly resigned to his fate. He anxiously looks for a line, addressed "John Ketch, Esq., opposite the Debtors' Door, Old Bailey."
N.B. The Schoolmaster in Newgate, who drew up the above advertisement, for his respected friend, Mr. Ketch, takes this opportunity of contradicting a report, which has been current for some time past,—that the Schoolmaster is abroad, which is quite foreign from the fact. Arrangements were certainly made to that effect, which, had they been carried into execution, he would have been quite transported; but he regrets to state, that he is under the necessity of remaining at his old abode, the large stone house in the Old Bailey.
| 1835.] | FEBRUARY. | ||
|---|---|---|---|
| Birds, this month, do bill and coo; | |||
| Do the like, and you may rue. | |||
| Courting is a pretty pleasure; | |||
| Wed in haste, repent at leisure. | |||
| * * * * * * | |||
| To hen-peck'd husbands what a feast! | |||
| This month, all women talk the least. | |||
| M | Season's | Odd Matters. | WEATHER. |
| D | Signs. | ||
| 1 | mizzle | ||
| Rain or hail, | |||
| 2 | drizzle | VALENTINE'S DAY. | |
| ☽ ☍ | |||
| 3 | frizzle | I can't make out what they're about, | |
| Nor how the men incline; | snow or sleet | ||
| 4 | raw | I've watch'd each knock, since nine | |
| To get a Valentine. | ☉ ♊ ♓ ♓ | ||
| 5 | thaw | ||
| In vain I've tried on every side, | in | ||
| 6 | hearts | Some happy chance to see, | |
| For, ah, alas! there came to pass | this month | ||
| 7 | darts | No Valentine for me. | |
| 8 | smarts | From morn till night I've scream'd "The light | ☌ ♈ ♒ ♄ ⚹ |
| Guitar," above a week. | |||
| 9 | loves | "Bid me discourse, has made me hoarse, | you're |
| Till I can scarcely speak. | |||
| 10 | doves | sure to meet. | |
| Through rain and snow I always go | |||
| 11 | gloves | To Tuesday evening lecture, | |
| Yet snow and rain don't bring a swain; | ♀ ♂ ☿ | ||
| 12 | willing | And why, I can't conjecture. | |
| If you don't | |||
| 13 | billing | In short, to find a lover kind, | |
| I've us'd all honest ways, | ♊ ☌ ⊕ ♓ | ||
| 14 | wooing | I've pinch'd my toes, and no one knows | |
| How tight I've lac'd my stays. | why then | ||
| 15 | cooing | ||
| Three times to-day, across the way, | you won't: | ||
| 16 | eyes | The postman has been seen— | |
| And this makes four—at Jones's door | |||
| 17 | sighs | One! two! "For Betty Green." | ☊ ♅ ♑ ♎ ⚹ |
| 18 | mate | Well! on my word, old Major Bird | Perhaps |
| Stands making signs, I think,— | |||
| 19 | fate | (If Betty dares to set her snares,—) | there won't |
| I'm sure I saw him wink. | |||
| 20 | love | be one | |
| I vow I'll call, and tell it all; | |||
| 21 | cold | They'll give her instant warning; | |
| And, but the river makes one shiver, | ♃ ☉ ♐ ♋ ♉ | ||
| 22 | scratch | I'd drown to-morrow morning. | |
| nor t'other: | |||
| 23 | scold | ||
| ☍ ☿ | |||
| 24 | fight | ||
| Why then | |||
| 25 | bite | ||
| 'twill happen | |||
| 26 | spite | ||
| ♊ ☿ ⚹ | |||
| 27 | mope | ||
| in | |||
| 28 | rope | some other. | |
HUMBUGGUM ASTROLOGICUM, PRO ANNO 1835.
VOX MULTORUM, VOX STULTORUM: The Voice of the Many is the Voice of a Zany.—It brawleth at all Places and Seasons.
Stepping in the steps of my late worthy and much-lamented Prototype, Francis Moore, deceased, I herewith present you with my Hieroglyphic, "adapted to the Times." "Its interpretation is in the womb of time," and those who do pry with curious eyes into the mysteries of the stars, will, in due season, divine the hidden meaning thereof. Yet may I observe, that by the rules of art, I have discovered, that a fiery planet, which has been for some time located in the upper house, and has been for a long while lord of the ascendant, has come in fiery opposition with Scorpio; while Taurus hath flung a quartile ray at both of them.
| 1835.] | MARCH. | ||
|---|---|---|---|
| I fear I am a Sinner lost, | |||
| For often do I pray,— | |||
| That I could read, in Times or Post, | |||
| The death of Lady Day. | |||
| M | Season's | Odd Matters. | WEATHER. |
| D | Signs. | ||
| 1 | Shrove | ||
| I suspend | |||
| 2 | tide | MARCH WINDS. | |
| ☌ ☉ ♄ ♃ ♊ | |||
| 3 | fritter | Come, Bully March! and show your blustering face; | |
| fried | I'll give you blow for blow, to your disgrace. | my | |
| You take advantage of us Fleet Street sinners, | predictions | ||
| 5 | Nan | While the police are gone to get their dinners. | |
| From Racket Court you rush, with such a rattle, | ♅ ☊ ♌ ♑ | ||
| 6 | makes | As makes the Lumber troopers fear a battle. | |
| on the | |||
| 7 | pan- | Oh! what fun, by the Bolt-in-tun, | |
| As your windy highness passes; | weather | ||
| 8 | cakes | D'ye hear a crash? There's a window-sash | |
| Made multiplying glasses. | |||
| 9 | batter | ♓ ☊ | |
| And now you come again from Chanc'ry Lane, | |||
| 10 | clatter | Where "Law" and "Assurance" guard Old Dunstan's fane. | this month, |
| (Old Dunstan, did I say?—young Dunstan now, | |||
| 11 | spatter | As many a heavy parish rate will show.) | ♂ ☿ ☉ ☽ |
| See how you raise a riot and a rout, | |||
| 12 | sky | Tossing old women's petticoats about; | because I |
| Hats, capes, and umbrellas round you scatter, | |||
| 13 | high | Till good Saint Bridget wonders what's the matter. | shall be able |
| 14 | toss | Ah, che gust-o! what a dusto! | |
| Blowing, growing, as it flies. | ♂ ♌ ♑ ♓ ♄ | ||
| 15 | in the | Lime and mortar show no quarter, | |
| Ramming, cramming, ears and eyes. | to tell more | ||
| 16 | pan | ||
| They say your dust is gold; so, little fear | correctly | ||
| 17 | high | Of growing poor; we'll roll in riches here; | |
| Then blow up, March! our sapient parish powers | ♎ ♐ ♏ ♀ | ||
| 18 | as | Ne'er think of water till the April showers. | |
| next year; | |||
| 19 | you | ||
| and | |||
| 20 | can | ||
| moreover, | |||
| 21 | toss | ||
| 22 | them | ⊕ ♃ | |
| 23 | higher | my readers | |
| 24 | fat | can | |
| 25 | in the | ♌ ♂ ♓ ♄ ☊ | |
| 26 | fire | exercise | |
| 27 | soot | ||
| their own | |||
| 28 | must | ||
| 29 | splash | judgments | |
| 30 | crash | ♂ ☽ ♊ ☿ | |
| 31 | ash | thereupon. | |
MY GRANDMOTHER'S LAMENT;
or,
THE SETTLING DAY.
ADVERTISEMENT EXTRAORDINARY.
A GENTLEMAN, who is about to proceed to New South Wales, on the public account, for fourteen years, is desirous of providing a confidential situation for an active YOUTH, previously to his departure. He is exceedingly light-fingered, and very dexterous in the conveyance of property; and, among his other accomplishments, the advertiser can confidently recommend him for considerable skill in opening locks without the aid of a key. He has been brought up to the bar; and is lineally descended from the renowned Jerry Abershaw. Most of his relations have been raised to exalted situations, far above the ordinary crowd; and, indeed, there is little doubt, that the force of his genius, if suffered to take its course, will, in time, procure for him the same degree of elevation. He can refer with confidence for a character to any of the gentlemen composing that respectable body, the Swell Mob Association; and the advertiser will be happy to reply to any inquiries, addressed—Peter Prig, Esq., at the Stone Jug Hotel, Old Bailey.