The Comic Almanack, Volume 2 / An Ephemeris in Jest and Earnest, Containing Merry Tales, Humerous Poetry, Quips, and Oddities

This dispute may be easily settled as follows:—In the Great Hall of the Ducal Palace, at Venice, are the portraits of all the Doges, except Marino Faliero, whose place is occupied by a frame, enclosing a black curtain, inscribed, "Hic locus est Marini Faliero decapitati pro criminibus." In like manner, in the new Houses of Parliament, we suggest that Cromwell's place should be filled by an empty pedestal, on which might be written, "Here Oliver Cromwell would have been, had he deserved it." As the villains of one age are generally the heroes of the next, in another hundred years the whole nation may set up a statue to him unanimously, and then the place will be ready.

THE FARCE ASSURANCE COMPANY.

Professor Bachhoffner, of the Royal Polytechnic Institution, has submitted a plan to the managers of the different theatres, whereby the ill-effects resulting from the summary damnation of various farces may be avoided. He proposes to erect a gasometer, contiguous to each theatre, to be filled, on the first nights of comic dramas, with laughing gas, which, being distributed through various ventilators, at the last bars of the overture, will keep the audience in screams of cachinnation throughout the performance; so that the papers can conscientiously speak of "peals of laughter," and "hurricanes of applause." By the same means, the talented Professor also proposes to turn on carbonic acid gas, diluted with atmospheric air, to depress the spirits, for serious five-act legitimacy, and induce sleep.

THINGS TO BE BORNE IN MIND IN JUNE.

If you go down to Ascot races on an old Norwich coach, at twenty shillings a head, when you leave it and get on the course, say, "a man you know (the coachman) brought you down on his drag (the coach)." In going home be careful to conceal yourself, that you may not be discovered jolly, pelting open landaus with pin-cushions, or making a banner of your pocket-handkerchief tied to a walking-stick. Do not go up to carriages whose inmates you know until the race is over: you will then get lunch, and will not be asked by the girls to join a sweepstakes, which never pays.

If not in funds, hide at home, on the Derby day; and when you go out at night declare you never saw a better race. The position of the horses may be read for nothing on the pen-and-ink placard outside the Globe and Sun offices.

The angler this month will find fish most abundant at Blackwall and Greenwich. Almost all sorts may be readily taken with brown bread and butter.

That otter hunting is in season this month, as the almanacks gravely assure us. When the thermometer stands at ninety in the shade, there cannot well be "otter" hunting.

THE BOUQUET PROJECTOR, OR CERITO CATAPULT.

The great difficulty experienced in throwing bouquets to popular performers has long been the subject of complaint at the Opera and other theatres. It is calculated that, in every twelve bouquets thrown at the stage, three fall in the stalls, four hit the fiddles, two reach the proscenium (one of which tumbles at the feet of somebody it was not intended for), and the rest fly into the pit-boxes, where they were never meant to go, or break into pieces in the air, showering down like floricultural rockets upon the heads of the spectators. To remedy this inconvenience the Cerito catapult has been invented. It consists of a gun working with a spring; and the nicest aim can be taken, as it is screwed on to the front of the box. N.B.—Double-barrelled machines for a pas de deux; and bouquets prepared, like grapeshot, to tumble into thirty small ones, for danseuses Viennoises and Anglaises.

THINGS TO BE BORNE IN MIND IN JULY.

At the beginning of the month tell your partners at evening parties that you have not yet decided whether you shall go to Wiesbaden, Naples, or the Tyrol for the autumn; but be careful towards the end to bespeak the humble lodging at Gravesend or Margate.

Do not take a horse in the park that bears marks of collar and crupper, because it looks like one you might have hired at seven-and-sixpence for the afternoon's ride.

A walk at the West-end should not now be taken except in evening dress, that people may think you are going to a dinner or evening party. A reputation for fashion and fortune may be cheaply purchased by walking under the colonnade, at half-past midnight, in the same costume.

If you wish to escape from society and get yourself into condition, sponge upon some friend who has moors in Scotland for a fortnight's deerstalking. This sport consists in running with your back parallel to the horizon, and your nose within two inches of the ground, against the wind, for several hours. Do not ask where the deer are, as it will betray your inexperience; everybody is supposed to know.

THE BOW-STREET GRANGE.
BY ALFRED TENNYSON.

THE SCHOOL OF DESIGN.

In chronicling the designs of this school for the past and forthcoming year, we cannot fall in with the abuse lavished upon it by some of our contemporaries. We believe, from many others, that the following will be most likely to interest our readers:—

A design for a new dance against next season, by the Terpsichorean professors, to meet the depression in their trade, since everybody knew the Polka.

A design of the journalists of England to make the gentlemen of the bar understand their proper position.

A design of the journalists of France to attribute their thrashing in Algeria to the gold of "perfide Albion."

A design of the Times newspaper to expose the railway swindles and burst all the bubbles.

A design of certain medical students against the knockers and bell-pulls near Guy's and St. Thomas's.

A design for a human oven, to enable savage aborigines to cook their victims instead of eating them raw, by Colonel Pelissier; a laudable attempt to exhibit the refinements of French colonization.

THINGS TO BE BORNE IN MIND IN AUGUST.

About the 10th, look for falling stars—not various actors, authors, and singers I could name, but shooting meteors. If they do not appear, you must blame them, and not me.

Towards the 12th, tell all your friends how deuced disagreeable it is to be tied by the leg from pressure of business, and not able to accept an invitation to the Highlands, where a thousand acres of grouse have been preserved on purpose for you.

About the end, buy a guinea shooting-jacket, and hang it about your room. Also keep an old gun, to be cleaning whenever your friends call.

By the way, if you should go to the North, avoid buying one of those shooting-jackets said, in the advertisements, to resemble the "bonnie heather," because your back, being seen in motion, may be taken by an inexperienced friend for a bush with a bird in it, and you will probably receive the contents of his double-barrel in the neighbourhood of your lumbar vertebræ.

According to Fitzwalker, a monk who wrote in the middle ages, the first House of Commons was so called from having been the only house in the centre of the commons, which formed the site of the present city of Westminster. It was built by King Cole, from a portion of the ruins of Thebes, whence the stones were brought in that monarch's one-horse chaise to save expense; and as only one could be carried at a time, the journeys backwards and forwards took many years. Subsequently, a peculiar species of cake was manufactured there for the king, termed parliament; and from the officers of state being accustomed to eat this during their debates, the senate took its name. This structure was burnt down in 1834, by catching fire from the inflammatory speech of an Irish member; and its rebuilding was entrusted to Mr. Barry, the celebrated clown at Astley's. Much speculation has taken place as to whether the lady of this clever pantomimist and architect is the one addressed by Mr. Tennyson, in "Locksley Hall," in the line—

Mr. Barry celebrated the laying of the first stone by driving four ducks on the Thames, from Battersea to Westminster, in a washing-tub,—being half of the identical butt in which the Earl of Malmsey was drowned by the Duke of Clarence, afterwards William IV., in the presence of Shakspeare, Hume, and Macready.

The notorious Guy, Lord Vaux, celebrated for blowing up the house, was captured in the vaults of the building. In trying to escape he dislocated both his ankles,—as may be always seen in the likenesses of him, carried about on the 5th of November, when the feet are invariably hind-side before.

The Speaker of the House of Commons is so called from never opening his mouth. He has, however, to take in all the members choose to spout, and therefore may be regarded as the Uncle of the senate, King Alfred being the Father, or, according to others, Mr. Byng. But this affinity does not constitute any degree of relationship between Mr. Byng (or King Alfred) and the Speaker, any more than Mr. Boyle's having been the father of chemistry, made his brother, if he had one, chemistry's uncle.

The members of the House put M.P. after their names; which are the initial letters of Mistaken Profession.

MARTYRS OF SCIENCE.

It is lamentable to think that so many of those whose discoveries have tended to advance the general welfare of society have fallen victims either to their zeal in the pursuit, or the apathy of the public. The following instances will sufficiently prove the fact:—

James Watt,

Acting upon the Greek maxim, γνωθι σεαυτον, devoted his whole life to solving the mysterious problem of "what's what?" Yet he burst his boiler eventually, and, as he was accustomed with a melancholy facetiousness to remark, was seldom able to fill his own stuffing-box. He choked himself with a new roll, which was in consequence termed a penny buster. His great bust was the work of Chantrey. To him we owe the invention of the baked-tater can. His hymns have been much admired.

Newton,

The great inventor of the solar system, was descendant of the Earl of Orrery. He discovered the centrifugal force from watching the scenes in the circle at Astley's. Whilst seated in his usual place in the pit one night, he was hit on the head by an apple from the gallery, supposed to have been aimed at Widdicombe, which led him to the discovery of the gravity of the earth, though it destroyed that of the house. Yet this great man was in his old age reduced to keep an eating-house near Leicester Square, formerly called the Hotel Newton, but now better known as Berthollini's.

Dr. Jenner,

Whilst in the incipient stages of small-pox, was tossed by a cow, which led him to the discovery of vaccination. Yet he was often without the means of procuring a ha'porth of milk; so that he was wont to say, when in a merry mood, that although his discovery had extirpated the confluent state, it had not left him in an affluent one. Cowes was his favourite residence, where he died in a state of monomania, fancying himself one of them.

Harvey,

Invented the circulation of the blood; yet he composed his "Meditations amongst the Tombs" with no other stimulus than a bottle of his own sauce, during an excursion to Kensal Green. Ultimately, coming to poverty, he took the situation of Hermit, at Vauxhall, and lived upon pulse. His works are now only found at circulating libraries.

Priestley,

Although he discovered the properties of air, had not sufficient property of his own to raise the wind. He found out the composition of the atmosphere; but was unable to effect a composition with his creditors. During the "No Popery" riots his house was torn down by the mob, who said they would have "none of that air." He afterwards travelled about the country with lucifer matches, whence he has been erroneously termed a light porter. He died ultimately from want of breath, ungratefully deserted by that element which he had raised from obscurity, and left his discoveries as an heirloom to the nation. He died in a Wynd in Edinburgh, but his remains were afterwards removed to Ayr, where an humble admirer afterwards inscribed this terse but touching epitaph upon his tomb:—

Davy (Sir Humphrey),

Until he came of age, was originally a miner in the north of England, where he invented the wonderful lamp, mentioned in the Arabian Nights. Hence each miner, on entering the pit, is required to "take his davy," or he will otherwise be blown up. He was very fond of salmon-fishing, but was never known to catch any. Poverty having depressed his spirits he took to laughing gas, and this, combining with other gases which he was accustomed to swallow in large quantities, produced spontaneous combustion, of which he died, whilst at sea, and was there interred in his own locker. During three days in the week he might be seen in the park, dining with his noble godfather, the Duke Humphrey. Such was the fate of one, of whom we may say, in the words of the poet:—

THE JURY'S GUIDE TO FALSE WEIGHTS AND MEASURES.

Bakers.—"Down again to 5d.!!" placarded on the window, expresses a draught of an ounce against the purchaser. If a microscopic "¾" is added in pencil, the loss will be greater.

Grocers.—"The famous Four Shilling Tea!!" stuck in a pyramid of that article, means that a quarter of an ounce falls off in every pound. Another quarter may be added for every note of admiration.

General Dealers.—"Look!" in red letters, over the price of anything per pound, intimates that you should do so, and very narrowly, when the aforesaid pound is weighed.

Cheesemongers.—"One trial will prove the fact!" is an unmistakeable evidence of short weight. At the same time, it can scarcely be called a deception; as, if the affair is ever brought to the trial, one is usually found to be sufficient to prove anything.

Note—That an armed warrior at Astley's, or Mr. Paul Bedford, as the Dragon, at the Adelphi, cannot be taken up for using false scales; but that all Members of Parliament may be called to account for false measures.

A new application of the Wenham Lake Ice has been discovered. By placing a small portion on the cruet-stand, "chilly vinegar" can be produced to any amount. The success of the "Sherry Cobblers" has induced the more refined West End Clubs to establish "Madeira Shoemakers" for their patrician habitués. The Wenham Lake Ice is preserved in blankets. This, at first sight, appears remarkable until we recollect the power of a "wet blanket" to throw a chill over everything.

Mr. Harrison Ainsworth is respectfully requested to reveal the following real mysteries of London, before he concludes his romance, if it is his intention to do so:—

What becomes of all the old cabs and coaches when they get past work?

Where waiters go to when they have a holiday?

Who is the subscriber to the "Metropolitan Magazine," and where a number can be seen; or whether its existence is a fiction?

Where the money comes from which everybody, without an exception, is reported to have made on the railways?

If the toll-keepers on Waterloo Bridge have any private friends?

What direction of the compass Marylebone Lane runs in, and where it begins and ends?

When the gates of Leicester Square were last unlocked; and who goes in, except the cats?

What lobster sauce is made of at cheap eating-houses; and what difference exists between the melted butter of the same places and thin paste?

Why Piccadilly omnibuses always stop at the corner of Coventry Street, and then go down a miserable narrow lane, instead of the Haymarket?

Why, when you go into a linendraper's to buy a pair of white kids, you are asked, ten times out of eleven, whether you will not have straw-coloured?

Where the crowd of boys rise up from, to open the cab-door, or seize your carpet-bag, the minute you get out of a railway omnibus, none having been visible just before?

What species of position is gained from drinking champagne with the funny singers at a supper tavern, out of a tankard?

How tradesmen of vast minds contrive to put "25,000 muffs and boas!" into a house not capable of accommodating fifty?

"Lilt your Johnnie."

THINGS TO BE BORNE IN MIND IN SEPTEMBER.

If anyone sends you a brace of partridges, do not eat them yourself, but tie one of your own cards to them, write on the back of it, "shot this morning," and send them where you think the attention will pay best. In that way you are much more certain to make a hit than if you foolishly attempted to shoot them yourself.

If you are a member of parliament, get a "pair," that you may be off to your manor, this being now the custom. If you like stag-hunting, you had better stay on a railway committee.

If you meet a friend, complain of being dull and the emptiness of London: this looks as if your acquaintances were in the habit of going out of town; the fact being, that no one you know leaves London from one year's end to the other except your tailor.

If you are a barrister, you are expected to be on circuit at this time; but as this is expensive when you have no brief, put a placard on your outer door, "On the Northern Circuit," and live in a single room at Manor Cottage, Kennington, or a similar locality.

THINGS TO BE BORNE IN MIND IN
OCTOBER.

That if you are a sober man, according to the old song, you may now prepare to "fall as the leaves do," and die this month.

If the settling for the Leger has prevented you from settling your day-book, and you wish to commit suicide without the discredit of felo-de-se, get invited to a battue. Place yourself about the centre of the wood, and you will be tolerably certain to be hit by something or somebody.

That theatres are said to open this month; but as nobody is ever known to go to them, the only proof of this is the fact that they are found open at a later time of the year.

The clubs become empty about this time, therefore it is a good opportunity of asking any friend of uncouth or disreputable appearance to dine with you, as he will only afford amusement to the servants instead of the members, which is not likely to be so painful to your feelings.

Freshmen go up to the Universities, and may be expected to come down upon their governors with heavy bills. Medical students walk the Hospitals, and run into debt.

THE NEW MAGAZINE MACHINE.

This novel application of mechanism, to the purposes of periodical publications, is the invention of an ingenious littérateur. The hoppers above being fed with subject of all sorts, from "Criminal Trials" to "Joe Millers," the handle is turned, and the fountain-pens immediately begin to write articles upon everything. The idea has been taken from the Eureka, but very much elaborated. The demand for "Virtuous Indignation" is very great just now; hence all blue-eyed, shoeless infants, taken up for stealing, street-vagabonds, and rascally poachers (whose punishment it is the fashion to call "the wrongs of the poor man"), will fetch good prices, by applying to publishers generally.

This meeting, first established by Professor Widdicombe, the father of the Antiquarian Society, promises to become a most important institution. Through the urbanity of the Professor, who has spent a very long life—in fact, so long as to be almost fabulous—in collecting information on various points not apparently properly understood, we have been favoured with the "Report;" and from it we propose to make various extracts, premising, that "The Bride of the Nile," "The Conquest of Amoy," "The Battle of Hastings," "The ditto of Waterloo," with other dramas, have furnished the authorities.

THE WONDERS OF ANCIENT EGYPT.

The mysteries of Isis, amongst the ancient Egyptians, were more simple than they are generally supposed to be; the sacred fires being trimmed with tow and turpentine every evening, and not being perpetual, but lighted with a lucifer, when wanted to juggle the multitude. The High Priests received six shillings a week for keeping them in order; and when the ceremonies were over, they frequently changed their costume and mingled with the crowd, to assist the deception. Celibacy was not insisted on, as several were married men, with families, residing in Lambeth.

Although in the chariot and gladiatorial contests of the Egyptians desperate struggles took place, yet all animosity ceased when the fight was over. Many of them, as they prepared for the contest, shared the Memphian baked potato, or the cold without, with much good-fellowship; and it was not uncommon, after the fight, to see the victor tending the foe whom he had forced to bite the dust until his mouth was full of it, and it required washing down with beer.

THE WAR IN CHINA.

A little circumstance connected with the taking of Amoy was not mentioned in the despatches. After Sir Henry Pottinger had addressed the troops they rushed away cheering, whilst he remained and made his horse dance a hornpipe for five minutes to the band, although he was directly under the ramparts. This is an unparalleled instance of coolness and self-possession in a moment of danger.

EARLY WIT, ETC.

Jokes were common amongst the Normans. Before "The Battle of Hastings," when Harold's envoy came to know on what principle William invaded Britain, William replied, "Tell your master we will return his wrongs with interest, and teach him principle." The barons did not laugh, probably from etiquette; but this must have been a good joke in those days.

Harold was killed by an arrow, as is commonly believed. It was, however, a species of suicide, as he stuck it into his head himself, on the sly, not choosing to trust to the archery of the soldiers. Considering the lightness of the dress in which he went to battle it is a wonder he was not killed before. His armour was simply rings of tin, tacked upon cotton velvet.

The story of the old chroniclers that Harold survived the battle, receives some confirmation from the fact that half an hour after the contest he was seen, muffled in a Tweed, asking the price of some sausages in the New Cut. These were probably to subsist on in his retirement.

The Norman William celebrated his conquest by taking a pipe and a glass of grog, with one particular friend, at an hostelry adjoining the scene of action, when it was all over.

TREACHERY AT WATERLOO

According to the latest Astley authorities, dated last June, the Battle of Waterloo occupied six minutes exactly. Several French soldiers walked undisguisedly into the quarters of the English army before the fight commenced; and some, at the extreme back of the scene, fought indiscriminately on either side, as occasion required. But the gravest circumstance is, that in the heat of the action the Duke of Wellington, approaching Marshal Soult, said to him, "Don't let your fellows fire until mine have!" a course which must have led them to destruction, had not General Widdicombe roared, with a voice of thunder, "What the devil are you doing there, you stupid asses?"—which produced the last grand charge. The story of the ball at Brussels is an idle invention. The officers were at no ball at all; except two, who had visited Mr. Baron Nathan's assembly at Kensington but a little time previously: and as to their being taken by surprise, they knew for weeks what was coming, even to the very hour and minute of the attack, and the precise manner in which it would be made. The following beautiful lines are but little known, and well deserve a place in this report. They are the production of Lord Byron, and were written at the request of the late Andrew Ducrow, Esq., describing the scene immediately before the commencement of the battle.