3. Sir O. Moseley, who lost his election, they say, from having seconded Sir Andrews' Sunday Bill.
| MAY | [1838 |
|---|---|
BOWING AND HARROWING.
the grand
Coronation
give joy
to the
Nation!
☿ ☊ ♏
MAY
the
Queen
live
for ever!
huzza!
♑ ♌ △
MAY
Tories
and
Whigs
run
no more
of their
rigs!
♈ ♍ ☊
and
John Bull
have
less taxes
to pay!
13 Edmund Kean d. 1833.
AMATEUR THEATRICALS.
31 Joe Grimaldi d. 1836.
JOHN BUDD AND SUKEY SIMS.
| JUNE | [1838 |
|---|---|
THE MARTYRDOM OF ST. PAUL'S.
PROCLAMATION DAY.
| JULY | [1838 |
|---|---|
RAIL-ROAD TRAVELLING.
Well, Duck, though I never did dabble in foreign parts,—Law, Ma! how I shall squeal when the engine starts.——For shame, child! as to fear it's nothing but a notion;—I declare I always feel the better for a little motion.——Pray, mister, do you call this a first-class carriage because it goes double fast?—No, ma'am, it's because we puts it behind, to be blow'd up last.——See, they're pulling us along with a rope! very odd, upon my word.—Vy, you carnt expect the hingins to go on their own ac-cord.——But just look round at Hampstead and Highgate, while they slacken their pace,—And see, they hook on the loco-motive! What's that, Pa? A thing they've a motive for hooking on at this place.——Here's Chalk Farm, where some run down a hill, and some run up a score!—And there's the famous tunnel! It looks like a bit of a bore.——Oh, dear! Oh, dear! how dreadful dark! I think I'm going to die,—And I'm so hot I can't say my prayers! but here's the light of the sky.——See what a hole in my parasole, burnt by a red-hot spark!—I only wish I knew who it was that was kissing me in the dark.——Sare! I vonder, Sare! ven dey vill put on de horses to draw!—Oh! horses don't draw here; they're all hors d'emploi.——But how the hedges run past, and the trees and the bridges, and the posts, and the cattle, and the people!—This is just like ploughing the air! Yes, and there goes Harrow Steeple.——On, on we spin, with a clack and a din, like a mighty courser snorting, blowing.—Well, how do you like the railroad now? Oh! I think it's the wonderful'st thing that's going.——Ladies, here's Watford; we can stop if you've had enough of your ride.—But perhaps you'd rather go on; there's a long tunnel on the other side.——Oh! I'm so frighted at the thought I can scarcely speak!—Gracious! I'm so delighted! I hope we shall stay in for a week.——Well, if that's the case, as you came out for a little pleasure, I shall leave you at the tunnel, and you can go through at your leisure.
20 Professor Playfair d. 1819.
28 Infernal Machine in France, 1835.
THAT MISTER NUBIBUS.
Reader, my name's Nubibus. I am "that Romeo." My ruling passion is a taste for the rurals. My love of green fields may be almost termed a green sickness. You may talk of your ottomans and your fauteuils, I never sit so easy as in a rustic chair. But, unhappily, my pleasure is not without a damper. The rain is my most mortal foe: my skies are always cloudy: my trees are continually on the drip: my Pan is always a Watering Pan. At the moment of my birth, even, it was observed that the watchman was going his rounds and crying, "Past four o'clock, and a rainy morning:" and many of my best friends think it likely that my last days will be accompanied by a drop.
Last Friday was a notable instance of my unluck. The morning was most beautiful—sun shining, birds singing, weather-glass down at Stormy, and Moore's Almanack at Heavy Rain—everything, in short, promised a fine day; and I immediately dressed myself in my most summery attire, and set off to join Mrs. Timon Duggins's pic-nic party to Battersea Fields. I found all the company already assembled in her little parlour, in Greek Street, Soho, and I could hear them greet my arrival with, "Oh! here's that Mr. Nubibus! we're sure to have rain if he comes." However, I took no notice of their impertinences, but calmly brushed the dust off my gossamer pumps, to show that I had no fear on my own account: tho', sooth to say, I had taken care not to come without my old friend, my walking-stick umbrella. Well, off we set, took boat at Hungerford Stairs, and reached our place of destination without misadventure. Miss Arabella Dix was the first lady to land, which she did by stepping into a squashy place among the rushes, from which she came out with an abundant supply of mud and water, and not without an angry look at me, as much as to say, "Ay, it's all thro' that Mr. Nubibus!" But this was not the worst. Gallantry forbade that Miss Arabella should remain in her unfortunate dampness while there were so many dry gentlemen in company: and, as it unluckily turned out that mine was the only small foot of the party, I was obliged to give up my dry pumps to Miss Arabella; tho' I own it went to my very sole to do so.
"Oh! how I do love the country!" exclaimed Miss Arabella, as soon as she had established herself in my dry shoes; "the sky, the water, the trees, how delightful!" I felt as if I could have hugged her. My taste to a T.
"And there! there's a spectacle! that lovely rainbow!" I felt as if I could have committed homicide upon the provoking creature, and clenched my walking-stick umbrella with the force of a maniac. On came the rainbow; clap went the thunder; down poured the rain—cats and dogs, puppies and kitlings. All eyes were turned upon me reproachfully. Up went umbrellas and parasols; out came cloaks and Mackintoshes. An air of triumph seemed to pervade the company as they remarked that there were no means of shelter left for me. I let them enjoy their triumph for a while, and then I quietly unscrewed the top of my walking-stick umbrella. My walking-stick umbrella, did I say? Alas! I had brought my bamboo telescope instead.
Young Ariel Hicks, a young gentleman of fifteen years of age, and as many stones weight, now offered me a share of his parapluie; but, as Hicks was only four feet two inches in height, and I stood five feet ten in my shoes (or rather, in Miss Arabella's), I was soon tired of doing penance in the form of a letter S, and boldly declared my utter contempt for all kinds of showers, and thunder-showers in particular. What made our situation still more provoking, was the presence of an opposition pic-nic party in the adjoining field, cosily enjoying themselves under a waterproof tent, from the entrance of which a grinning face would every now and then peep out, evidently in high glee at our miserable appearance. The weather getting clear, it was proposed to have a ramble among the green trees: but the Dryads and Hamadryads turning out to be anything but what their name imported, we were glad to escape from their dripping bowers with all possible speed. Hungry as wolves, and shivering with cold, we now addressed ourselves to Mrs. Timon Duggins, who had undertaken to be purveyor to the whole party. Mrs. Timon Duggins was as hungry as we. But where was "Mr. Gunterses young man?—Mr. Gunterses young man, that she (Mrs. D.) had ordered to be on the ground punctually at two o'clock?" Echo, and several of the young ladies and gentlemen answered "Where?" But still Mr. Gunter's young man appeared not. At last Mrs. Timon Duggins, employing one end of her spectacles as an eye-glass, exclaimed, "Why, there he is!" and there, sure enough, we saw him, standing with his baskets on his arm, watching the departure of the rival party, who were merrily sailing down the river to the tune of the Canadian Boat Song, sung by the whole strength of the company. The young jackal was soon summoned, and bid to spread the repast: but what was our horror on learning that he had mistaken the rival party for ours, and suffered them to eat up all our provisions. Half dead with cold and hunger, we turned the baskets inside out: but nothing was left except a few ices and a bottle or two of ginger-beer!
By great good fortune one of the Twickenham steamers was just then going by, and as Ariel Hicks, who was an amateur sailor, had some acquaintance with the skipper, he succeeded in procuring us some prog from the vessel. We had scarcely got our knives and forks well fixed in it, however, when the rain again began to fall in torrents, and we were glad to get away to our boats and Mackintoshes. Our voyage home was not less disastrous. The boat had been filled to about ankle deep by the late heavy rains, and we were obliged to sit all the way with our feet held up above high-water mark—except those who thought proper to put them in the wet by way of relief.
The next morning there was but one answer to all inquiries—"Our compliments, and we're very ill in bed of colds and rheumatisms; and it's all owing to that Mister Nubibus."
| AUGUST | [1838 |
|---|---|
CHEAP BATHING
16 Andrew Marvel d. 1678. No wonder.
Joe Miller d. 1738. No joke.
18 Rebel Lords beheaded, 1746.
22 Gall d. 1828.
Never suffer a phrenologist to pass judgment on your head, or, ten to one, you may hear something unpleasant.
No occasion to move.
A move on occasion.
Pray, Ma'am, can you move ever such a little scrinch? Indeed, Marm, its quite unpossable for me to stir an inch.—Well, if I'd stay'd at Dorking I should have sat more at my ease, but I thought it best to leave such a nest, for we're all swarming alive with fleas.—Then I'll take my leave, Marm, to shift a little further from where you are sittin', for though I don't like to be crushed, I don't choose to be bitten.
PLEASURING.
Miss Henrietta Julia Wiggins, on her Travels, to Miss Adelaide Theresa Ditto, in Bucklersbury. With a short Postscript from Mamma, and another from Papa.
"Ma chère Sœur—According to promise, I now send you the journal of my tour; but, hélas! if you expect it has been a happy one, you trompez yourself most sadly. Mon dieu! the sufferings we have undergone! Mais voilà the journal.
"Monday, Sept. 1.—Embarked on board the "Emerald" steamer at London Bridge for Boulogne, at one o'clock in the morning, after having passed a miserable night in packing up, and trying to go to sleep in easy chairs. Pa complaining of symptoms of lumbago.—All the berths taken, mostly by gentlemen—or rather, by monsters in the form of gentlemen. Mon dieu! what brutes the English men are! to suffer us poor helpless femelles to pass the night on deck, while they are snoring away comfortably in the cabins! Ma's blue silk pelisse was soon put hors de combat by the nasty tar and stuff, and my new French-white bonnet was turned into a regular London smoke in ten minutes by the horrid chimney.—Ma has made the acquaintance of a very nice Dame Française, who speaks pretty good English, and abounds in anecdotes about la grande nation. Also, has kindly taken charge of one of Ma's sacs de nuit; as she says the French douaniers won't allow people to land more than one carpet-bag a-piece, and Ma not choosing to leave her valuables at the mercy of those vilains bêtes, the custom-house officers. Moi aussi, j'ai fait connaissance with a charming fellow, the Marquís de Mandeville, a young militaire, in black moustaches and a green foraging cap.—Marquis beginning to make himself very agreeable; in fact, becoming quite amoureux, when both taken suddenly ill, and obliged to part. Ah! Adelaide dear! it's a sad change, from love-sick to sea-sick! French lady very kind, and asked me if I had the mal de mere—thought she meant "my mother's complaint," which you know is rheumatism in the hips—answered accordingly, and got horribly laughed at by a lot of rude fellows in make-believe sailors' jackets.—Ma next attacked—Pa next—tout le monde soon in the same plight. Sensation dreadful—headache worse and worse—Ma wanted to be set down at Dover, but Captain wouldn't hear of it. French lady very attentive—would fetch tumblers of brandy and water for Pa and Ma and me—couldn't drink a drop—she did, and wasn't sick at all. Obliged to stop my journal—so very ill.
"Tuesday, Boulogne—Landed here half dead, having lost the tide, and obliged to pass another night at sea. All very ill. Pa's lumbago confirmed, and Ma's rheumatism très mal.—Unable to go to Paris; and our places having been paid for all the way, obliged to forfeit the money; Pa very cross, Ma very uncomfortable. 5 o'Clock, p.m.—Pa has just been in to say that the French lady refuses to give up Ma's sac de nuit, containing all her valuables; and that, as it was landed in her name, there's no remedy.—A call from Marquis—advises us not to make a rumpus about it, for fear of being taken up as smugglers. His lordship's valet not being yet arrived, under the unpleasant necessity of borrowing five pounds of Pa. Pa very suspicious, until Marquis showed us his passport, where they have taken him two black eyes, a nose aquilin, black cheveux, and five feet three inches of taille. Only think, Adelaide dear! what a picture of a lover!
"Wednesday.—Passed a dreadful night, not having been able to sleep a wink for the punaises. Ma bit all over, and her face as big as two. Moi aussi, my eyes completely swelled up, all but one little corner, just enough to see what a fright I am in the looking-glass. Unable to get any assistance from the people at the inn, our manuel du voyageur not containing any dialogue between a chambermaid and a lady bitten by bugs; and Pauline, Ma's maid, that she hired by advertisement, having left us the moment we landed, her only motive in engaging herself at all being to get her passage paid back to her native country.—Can't get anything that we can eat at the inn, and reduced to sea biscuits and water. I have again tried to make our wants known to the fille de chambre, but without success, they do speak such very bad French in the provinces—quite a patois, in fact. Hope we shall do better in Paris.—Marquis called, and recommended Pa to hire a valet de place. Kindly undertook to provide him one, who speaks French and English, and understands the horrible patois of the Boulognese. This will take a good deal off my hands, who am obliged to be interpreteur to the whole party.—Alexis, the new valet de place, arrives.—Got something eatable at last, and are to start for Paris demain matin.
"Thursday.—Up at five. Déjeûner, and start for Paris at seven—Marquis in same diligence. Weather dreadfully hot. Rival diligence got the start, and will keep before us all day, the French laws not allowing one coach to pass another. Dust dreadful—and worse for us than any of the rest, as we had taken our seats in front of the voiture, for the sake of seeing the country—and, after all, no country to see. Proposed to some gentilhommes inside to change places with Ma and me; but met with a flat refusal. Begin to think French gentlemen are not much more poli than English ones.—Dined at Abbeville, and arrived at Amiens late at night, very tired and ill.
"Friday.—Up at five, after a sleepless night. Started at seven. Heat comme hier—dust ditto: two diligences before us.—Dined, or rather table d'hôte'd (which is a very different thing) at Clermont. Didn't eat an ounce all three of us, but obliged to pay five francs a-piece for our dinners—and, as we had no francs left, the people kindly consented to take English shillings instead.—Ma and I quite ill, from heat, and dust, and fasting, and one thing or another; and Pa's lumbago much worse since the heavy thunderstorm which soaked thro' his waterproof hat, and ran off his Mackintosh into his shoes, till they were all of a squash.—Seeing our distress, three French gentlemen inside kindly consented to relinquish their seats in our favour, an offer which we gladly accepted. The French are really polite, après tout!—10 o'Clock, à la nuit!—Arrived in Paris at the Hotel de Lyon, the Marquis very politely handing us out, and seeing us to our room.—Rather annoyed by Pa's coming in and kicking up a rumpus about the gentlemen who had taken our paid places on the première banquette, and who had left him to pay for the three insides all the way from Boulogne.—Marquis very aimable, and gave us all a pressing invitation to pay him a visit at his château in La Vendée.
"Saturday.—The Marquis to breakfast.—With his Lordship to the Jardin des Plantes, where we had no sooner arrived among the lions and tigers than it began to rain cats and dogs. The noble Marquis very kind in holding the umbrella over him and me, and sending Pa to call a coach at the neighbouring coach-stand. Pa très long-tems away—at last saw him coming along in the custody of two gend'armes, covered with mud and dirt, and bleeding profusely. Learned that poor Pa, instead of calling 'cocher,' as he ought to have done, had called the man 'cochon,' which, you know, means 'pig;' at which the coachman at first laughed; but Pa persisting in calling him 'cochon,' he at last got down in a rage, and attacked Pa most furiously. I am sorry to say, poor Pa got terriblement maltraité. Ma has been in fits ever since, and Pa won't be able to go out for weeks. Pour moi, I am as ill as any one can be—nothing but the Marquis's kindness keeps me alive...."
"P.S.—Sunday.—My dearest child! Your unhappy mother sends you this. Your deluded sister disappeared last night with the Marquis de Mandevil, leaving this unfinished letter on her table, and your Pa and me both heart-broken. I am too ill to write any more.
"P.S.—Monday.—Dear daughter! Your distressed father sends you this. Your unhappy mother eloped last night with that villain Alexis—and all the luggage. I have discovered that he and the Marquis are a couple of sharpers. A pretty week we have made of it!
COUNTRY COMMISSIONS.
"Mr. Hume moved for a list of all Commissions issued between the 1st of April, 1833, and the 1st of April, 1837, and of the expenses incurred thereon."