Chapter XII (1)

Tom Gad got well—no more a swell—
Is home among his friends;
His mind is eased, his wife is pleased,
And here my story ends—
With just this moral—"Unless you'd be _un_done,
Don't leave your spouse, and come alone to London."

CHRISTMAS FARE.

A MERRY MUG! though he could not be uglier, he
Has nought about him that betokens Jugg-ler-y.

A GOOSE, even tailors have, who cut it fat,
And use the _goose_ itself to get _a flat_;
And when the cloth is spread, which they have stored,
They _lodge_ it there, a portion of their _board_.

Snap Dragon—Fiery face-ias.

CHINE'S Christmas fare, cries Pat, but, by my sowl,
Sure TURKEY isn't, for it's Christmas fowl.

Eat your pudding hot; but—
Don't burn their mouths,
The little dears while treating,
Though still the proof
Of pudding's in the _heating_.

A round game at Christmas.
]

PROCEEDINGS OF LEARNED SOCIETIES, 1841.

THE STATISTICAL SOCIETY.

[Our country readers may probably not be aware that there exists in London a body of pleasant-minded gentlemen, constituting a society bearing the above name, who collect, with never-wearying application and research, the various statistical reports connected with every subject of the day. Their proceedings are duly chronicled in the different scientific and literary reviews, but as these may not be within the reach of all, we have collected the most interesting points discovered by their labours, during the past twelvemonth, and present them as a "Year Book of Facts" to our admirers.]

* * * * *

Some valuable particulars have been gained in connection with the supper taverns of London. Of every twenty visitors, it appears that eight order Welsh rabbits, six ditto broiled kidneys, four ditto poached eggs, and two ditto chops or steaks, as their taste may direct; and that these numbers are divided into seven medical students, five lawyers' clerks, three gentlemen from the country, the same number of men about town, and two shop-boys or single tradesmen, who imagine they are so. Of these, more than one-third call the waiters "Charles," or "Tom;" two in five join loudly in the burdens of "The Pope," and "The Monks of Old;" and one in four encores the comic songs by striking his fists upon the table, until the cruets commence performing an intricate figure of their own, and finally tumble down upon the floor.

The statistics of Camberwell Fair are exceedingly interesting; and the following return of the state of fifty dolls there purchased, at the end of a week from the time of buying, will be read, we are assured, with avidity:

Had their eyes poked in, and rattling loose in the head 12
Ditto picked out 8
Despoiled of their wigs 6
Lost their arms and legs 9
Melted before the fire 3
Had their noses beaten flat against the bars 7
Totally destroyed 4
In tolerable preservation 1
——
Total 50

As the affection of a child for its doll proverbially increases according to the dilapidated state of the latter, the above tables afford an interesting view of the probable existing proportion of nursery attachments at the present moment. One child in three, at the Fair, had a mouth covered with gingerbread crumbs, and five in twelve had the stomach-ache. The promenade Concert d'Eté, which lasted all day long, embraced twenty-two penny trumpets, or _cornets-à-bois_, nineteen musical fruits, six fiddles with packthread strings, and four drums, varying in price from sixpence to two shillings. A solo, by a very young performer, on a tin rattle filled with peas, was very much admired.

A paper, involving some singular points of manufacturing economy, has been written, entitled, "What becomes of all the pins?" It appears, from Professor Partington, that _twenty millions_ of pins are daily manufactured in this country. These get into general circulation, and after a time, entirely disappear; but the remarkable fact is, that, like the swallows, nobody knows where they go to. It is proved that, were it possible to recall these lost articles, a quantity might be collected sufficient to build the projected foot-bridge at Hungerford Market, and the residue might be cast into one enormous pin, which should be erected as a column in any part of London best suited for its elevation, and to be called "Victoria's Pin," in opposition to "Cleopatra's Needle," at Alexandria. There would be a winding staircase in the interior, with a saloon in its head, and it might serve, not only as a land-mark in stormy weather for the fourpenny steamboats plying between Vauxhall and London Bridge, but, since the setting up of statues to everybody that dies is getting into fashion, the column could be crowned with an image of Shakspeare, Byron, or any other inferior character who has not yet been so honoured, in London, beyond the lobbies of the theatres and Madame Tussaud's.

From the visiting report "On the Lunatic Asylums of the United Kingdom," we learn that the persons of unsound or slightly cracked intellects in England, amount to ninety per cent., but that straight-waistcoats have gone out of fashion, being superseded by straight pea-jackets with the majority of the aberrated. Of a great quantity of lunatics now in Bedlam, five out of thirteen are addicted to punching the crowns out of their hats, and then putting them on topsy-turvy; and two in seventeen are not quite clear whether they are the Secretary of State or Julius Cæsar, but collect small pebbles, which they call petrified bears' heads and five-shilling pieces. Ninety-one and a half per cent. believe they are perfectly sane, and that all the rest are stark mad; whilst two in nine are preparing to bring an action against the Queen for breach of promise of marriage. Of three hundred wooden bowls allowed them for their gruel, twenty-four had been thrown at the nurses and keepers in one day; and, in a single instance, one had been converted into a species of cap, which was put on with much solemnity, and the wearer then kept close watch in the yard for the whole week over a strawberry-pottle, which he represented to be Windsor Castle. At Hanwell, from the proximity of the asylum to the railway, twenty per cent. believe that they are first-class carriages, and have a habit of whistling loudly when they approach, that the others may get out of the way; a proceeding which is generally advisable.

A statement has also been made connected with the omnibuses of the metropolis, from which it appears that, when you are waiting at the corner of any street for an omnibus, seven out of eight are going the wrong way. Ninety per cent. of the cads ask if you will ride outside when you hail them; and, out of thirteen passengers, three wear kid gloves, eight sport brown Berlin, and two none at all.

REPORT OF THE CATNACH SOCIETY.

ESTABLISHED A.D. 1841, ON THE MODEL OF THE CAMDEN, PERCY, AND
SHAKSPEARE SOCIETIES.

RULES.

I.—The Society shall be called the Catnach Society.

II.—The chief object of the Society shall be to reprint rare and unedited ballads and handbills, printed, at various times, by Messrs. Catnach, Birt, and Pitt, of Great St. Andrew Street, Seven Dials.

III.—The Society shall consist of as many subscribers as can be got together, and, as a precaution against bolting, the subscriptions shall be paid in advance.

IV.—A subscription of a guinea a year shall entitle the members to receive a copy of all the works issued by the Society.

BOOKS ALREADY PRINTED.

1.—_The Greenacre Garland; or, a Merrie Manual for Midnight Murderers_: A collection of the most remarkable dying-speech bills issued within the last forty years; comprising letters written, and hymns composed by the malefactors the night before their executions, speeches on the scaffold, copies of verses detailing the crime, and written for music, with views of the execution, and occasional portraits of the felons. Edited by the late Thomas Cheshire, Esq., of Newgate, Middlesex.

2.—_A Collection of Political Songs and Ballads_, having reference to some local particulars connected with a county election in 1833. As the allusions in these relics are but imperfectly understood, and the interest has quite gone by, this forms a valuable addition to the works already published.

3.—_The Street Anthology of the Nineteenth Century_; comprising notices of the most popular itinerant musicians of the day: to which is added, an inquiry into the probable author of "Jim along Josey;" with memoirs of the following eminent perambulators—_viz._, the little man in the soldier's coat, with the "jolly nose," who indulges in _Billy Barlow_ and _Follow the Drum_, under a very diminutive and dilapidated umbrella, on certain evenings in Leicester Square; the professional gentleman in the oil-skin cap, and whiskers inclining to auburn, who sings to the dulcimer and attends the races; the ambiguous character who ties his hair in bows, wears sandals, carries a fan, and sings "She promised to buy me a bunch of blue ribbons," and dances to the chorus—"Tilly ung de rung tung de rung day," as he plays an imaginary piano on his ribs; the two young gentlemen who black their faces with soot and tallow, and sing "Sich a getting up stairs," standing upon their heads, and dancing with their feet in the air; the conjuror who wears a scarlet coat, does the doll trick, and tries to imitate "Jerry," but who does not succeed therein.

4.—_Merrie England in the Modern Time; or, Richardson and his Friends._ A singular collection of showbills and street advertisements, edited by the late Mr. Richardson, of travelling-theatre celebrity; including details of the various fairs he attended, and embracing endless anecdotes of his contemporaries—the learned pig, black wild Indian, white Negress, Scotch giant, fat boy, Welsh dwarf, young Saunders, Mr. Samivell, the equestrian, &c.; interspersed with many outlandish songs and recitations, and dialogues between masters of shows and Mr. Merriman.

5.—_Three Yards for a Penny._ A _répertoire_ of some reprinted popular lyrical poems prevalent at the commencement of the reign of Queen Victoria; including "Happy Land," "Claude du Val," "Woodman, spare that Tree," "Nix my Dolly," "Wanted a Something," &c. &c.

AN EARNEST LOVE LETTER.

_To the Editor of the Comic Almanack._

GOOD MASTER RIGDUM FUNNIDOS,

I am incurably in love with a young lady, residing in the country,
but have reason to think, from what passed between us at our last
interview, that she has some misgivings respecting my fidelity. I
therefore beg you will insert these lines in your Almanack, which,
as it circulates everywhere, will show everybody that my intentions
are strictly honourable.

Yours,
Greatly obliged, &c.,
PHIL. PHILOMEL.

Oh! why these cruel taunts throw out,
And say you cease to love me;
Or my affection that you doubt?
By all the stars above me,
I am not false—yet, since I fear
To meet a flat rejection,
I'll tell you when you may, with cause,
Mistrust my fond affection:

When trains from Railway _termini_
Start off at the same hour
Two weeks together, then begin
To doubt your beauty's power;
Or, when embankments cease to fall,
Or boilers to explode,
Or engines to run off the line,
You may some change forbode:

When shrimps are caught at Putney Bridge,
And gudgeons at Herne Bay,
When the Thames Tunnel clears enough
Its shareholders to pay;
Or, when Thorwaldsen's "Byron" stands
In Westminster's old Abbey,
You may, with truth, begin to think
My conduct rather shabby:

When Autumn tourists cease to roam
To Switzerland or Baden;
Or when the lessees fortunes make
At "Drury," or "The Garden;"
When _busses_ move along the Strand
As fast as you can walk—
Then think my words no longer true,
My vows of love all talk:

But, until then, I swear by all
The topics of the year—
The corn laws, sugar, opium, tea,
Lin, Elliott, and Napier.—
By D'Aumale's fortunate escape,
And Marie, "_femme_ Laffarge,"
Who writes as well within her cell
As if she were at large:

Or by Napoleon's _catafalque_,
'Midst such grand rites erected
(Although it made not half the stir
The French King had expected);
By the dim last declining rays
Of weather-doom'd Vauxhall,
Or by Cerito's masquerade,
Which ne'er took place at all:—

By all these things, and many more
Which I've no time to write
(Because the various mail-trains start
At half-past eight each night),
I swear again, to prove most true,
And every vow fulfil,
Till fashion's idlers quit Hyde Park,
And lounge on Tower Hill.

LIKELIHOODS.

Is it likely—that the young Prince can lead any other than the life of a soldier, since he is already _in arms_?

Is it likely—that you can ride in an omnibus, without catching one _pane_, through the absence of another?

Is it likely—that you can ever get the work you particularly want at a Subscription Library?

Is it likely—that you can be riding within half a mile of the theatres, in the evening, without having twenty playbills thrust in at your coach-windows?

Is it likely—when attending a meeting of creditors, where time is asked for, that you will ever hear of less than the probability of thirty shillings in the pound?

Is it likely—that anybody on the Free List ("the public press excepted") can gain admittance at a theatre when there is anything worth seeing or hearing?

Is it likely—that any account of a fire can be inserted in the newspapers, unaccompanied by "further particulars?"

Is it likely—that an unfavourable review of a work can appear, without the author's declaring that the writer has been actuated by private malice?

Is it likely—that you will find the National Gallery, or British Museum, open at the day or hour a country cousin has selected for visiting it?

Is it likely—that you can receive a present of game from the country without paying, in carriage, more than it is worth, and being expected to send a basket of fish in return?

Is it likely—that your servant will find a coach or cab, on the nearest stand, when you are in a hurry?

Is it likely—that a friend will remember to return your umbrella until the dry weather sets in?

Is it likely—when you get into an omnibus at the Bank, that you will arrive at Bond-street in the time in which you could have pedestrianised the distance twice over?

Is it likely—that the "positively last night" of a dramatic Star will be the end of his performances?

Is it likely—that a publisher will omit to announce a work as "just ready," when it is not even written by the author?

Is it likely—that you will hear the popular preacher whose fame has attracted you five miles on a foggy November Sunday morning?

Is it likely—that you can remember the number of the coach in which you have left your new silk umbrella?

Is it likely—that the street musicians will pass on under double the usual time, if you happen to be in a particularly ill-humour, or are engaged in the miseries of authorship?

Is it likely—that a day can pass without the manager of a theatre receiving ten applications, from "particular friends," for the use of the stage-box?

Is it likely—that you can listen to a traveller, without hearing "when I was abroad," twenty or thirty times repeated?

Is it likely—for a snuff-taker to offer his box, without observing, "that it is a bad habit, but he cannot do without it?"

Is it likely—for your country friends not to have seen more of the London lions than you, who have been in town all your life?

Is it likely—that a friend will refuse to _lend_ you a hundred pounds, without _giving_ you plenty of advice?

Is it likely—that you can take a trip to a watering-place, without ever-_last_-ingly running against your shoemaker, and finding your butcher there, "cutting it fat?"

Is it likely—that you can put on a new pair of boots, without wishing the maker of them at—a pretty considerable distance; and driving a hole in the floor with your _stamp_ of—anything but approbation?

Is it likely—that a young lady can be induced to sit down to the piano-_forté_, until after she has raised _fifty_ objections?

NOT VERY!

NOT VERY LIKELY
]

THE
COMIC ALMANACK
FOR 1843.

OH! LAW!

There never were such times as these! A barrister could once, with ease, have got as many fees, by merely signing pleas, as would have given him something more than bread and cheese; but destiny's decrees have made it feasible no more to get such fees; and if the lawyers please to live, they can no longer live by pleas.

Those days, alas! are flown, when seeds of litigation, shrewdly sown, were very often known, not through a single life alone to have thriven and grown, but to have reach'd the state that's call'd full blown, in time for the attorney's son to make the crop his own. But now the lawyers are thrown over—the system's overthrown.

The common law is common now no more; full many a clause in Acts of Parliament has clipped its claw. The time is o'er, when, for an hour, one could jaw about the spelling of the man who did the indictment draw, and whose mistake, or clerical _faux paw_, had floored poor ill-used justice by a literal flaw.

If Eldon now could rise and see the changes made since _he_ would doubt and disagree e'en with his own decree, what would the great man's feelings be? He'd say this seems not like the Court of Chan_ceree_, in whose old customs I had hoped that we had an estate in fee; such suits as these would not have suited me!

Oh! who would once have dared to dream that judges could have worked by steam? Although, without a joke, justice would very often end in smoke; and, from the speeches still preserved on paper, we find that legal eloquence was often only vapour; while law itself contained, as it would seem, the element and principle of steam; for those who ever had a bout of it, found it hot water, and were very glad when they got out of it. Mechanics' principles the lawyers knew, and made amazing use of two—the wedge and screw! But of the third, in early legal cases, there is little heard; for though to scientific men of old the lever was well known, as we are told, the lawyers seem to have refused it, or never used it. The lever they despised; at least we find them not leaving anything they _could_ take behind them! But it is also thought some early barristers so often moved in court, that they had something like a notion of coming to perpetual motion.

Oh, Law!
]

A LAW REPORT.

_Doe on the demise of Roe, versus Roe on the demise of Doe._

This was a case of ejectment. Gabble (Q.C.) for plaintiff.—"This is a clear case of ouster (_Shower_, 2); but if the tenant in possession disputes the title of tenant in tail, he cannot plead _laches_ (_Campbell_, 1)." In this case the remainder man was regularly let in, but the widow cannot now claim dower (_Blackstone_, 3). Suppose the mortgagee had been anxious to foreclose, then plaintiff must have been guided by the rule in Shelly's case (_Adolphus and Ellis_, 6.) Here there is nothing of the kind. If defendant takes anything, it is in the character of tenant in reversion after the possibility of issue extinct (_Shower_, 1).

Thumpus (Serjeant) _contra_.—Doe takes only a chattel interest, or, at most, a base fee (_Taunton_, 6). The court must presume that the outstanding term is satisfied (_East_, 6). The rule is not now as Coke laid it down, for Mansfield (C. J.) declined taking it up. This is a case of common ouster. Doe walked in as trustee, and was kicked out in tail. There is no relief for him at common law (_Bracton_). The door was shut upon him by defendant's son, and the parent is not answerable for the act of the boy (_Chitty_). Judgment was now delivered by the court.

Mither (C.J.)—This is an uncommon case. Doe was never regularly in, nor was Roe regularly out. Both took as devisees of the same testator. The case in _Shower_ cannot guide us here, though the rule laid down has been recognised. I do not think there is much in the objection to the widow's claim of dower, though I see I have got it upon my notes. A mortgagee may suffer by _laches_, but then the defendant should have pleaded the _tort_. There is nothing of this on the record, and the verdict must go accordingly.

Puny (J.)—I am of the same opinion. My brother Thumpus has referred us to Bracton. I know the point in Bracton, and have decided it twice the other way. But here I think the rule in Shelly's case comes in and carries the verdict.

Twaddle (J.)—There are four points in this case; three of them amounted to nothing, and the fourth has been conceded. The _laches_ ought to have appeared on the pleadings. There cannot be a use upon a use (_Sanders_), but a trustee may take by the common law, which the statute, Jac. II., c. 14, did not interfere with. The provisions of the act removed much abuse, and the eighty-fourth is a particularly wholesome section. Here these questions do not arise, and, as the rule is clear, the verdict must follow it.

Shiver (J.)—I am of the same opinion.

(Gentlemen _in the Direction_.)
]

LONDON AND UNIVERSAL DEPOSIT ASSOCIATION.

_Time of taking in, ten to four. Drawing out, ten to one._

Wanted some fine young men, without delay,
To carry boards about the street,
And pop into the board-room once a day,
As shareholders, to muster a display,
When the directors meet.
It is expected all will be quite willing
To take a share for which they'll pay a shilling.
All those who don't object to taking more
Will profit in a very high degree;
And any one who purchases a score
Becomes vice-president and life trustee.
To each vice-president, besides his pay
Of eighteen-pence a day
Which is of all deductions clear
There is allowed a pot of beer.
The company beg to propose a job,
That is adapted well to any single swell,
Or may be undertaken by the mob.
In plainer terms to speak, there is a meeting once a week,
At which it is advisable to muster,
Of flashy-looking gentlemen, a cluster.
A liberal price to any one who brings
Of gold, of course mosaic, a display;
But there is some reduction in the pay,
When the Directors find pins, chains, and rings.
Immediate application is required
From those by whom employment is desired;
Because the company will soon begin
To take Shareholders and deposits in.
And there is very little doubt,
That when the time arrives for drawing out,
The company, by some strange antic,
Will be removed across the Atlantic.

THE CHARTER—A Common's Scene.
]

THE CHARTER.

A COMMONS SCENE IN THE YEAR 1843.

Several Members took the oaths, and the Speaker took his seat, when six-and-twenty members all at once were on their feet. The standing order then to move some dozen did begin; and, in compliance with it, the Speaker ordered in, for all the honourable members, each "a go" of gin.

The worthy representative of Monmouth Street began to bring before the house his well-digested plan, for making up the _deficit_, by taxing every man who should be found to own a baked potato-can.

He went into the history of _taturs_, from the day when first the sun of science shone with resplendent ray, and pointed out for baking them the most delicious way: he traced the rise of cans from the very first of all, when they used to manufacture them particularly small, until the later era, when they made them very tall, with half-a-dozen lanterns, from which the light would fall, the notice of the populace unto the can to call, and, like a very basilisk, the little boys enthral.

The member then for Battersea, in an impressive speech, brought on his promised motion for giving Chelsea Reach, and also Twickenham Meadows, another member each. He said, and while he said it, he acknowledged it was true, that those who lived at Battersea and Twickenham were few, but unto them the suffrage undoubtedly was due, because it had been given to Hammersmith and Kew.

The great election compromise was then at length discussed, and it was soon decided that the sitting member must, upon a charge of bribery, from out his seat be thrust; because he had corrupted, with a pot of beer, a crust, and bit of cheese, a voter who took away the dust.

The watercress and radish trade presented a petition, complaining very bitterly of their distressed condition, and praying that the Parliament would put a prohibition on foreign cress and radishes, which caused a competition that threatened to annihilate at once the home vendition. The House, in tongues as numerous as e'er were heard at Babel, expressed at once a wish to do whatever it was able, and ordered the petition, then, to lie upon the table.

But now the long discussion was eagerly resumed, upon the knotty question, whether those who wern't illumed with a knowledge of the reading art, could ever be presumed fit persons unto whom the nation's guidance should be doomed? 'Twas argued very cleverly, and was by all confessed, that, as the members had not been by property oppressed, enabling them to sympathize much more with the distressed, and, as they were with very slight qualifications blessed, perhaps, if they had none at all, it would be for the best.

The House was now impatient, and many rose to say, that they had listened long enough, and wished to get away; for they had sat sufficient time to constitute a day, and therefore hoped the Speaker no longer would delay, in ordering to each of them their ordinary pay.

With this the feeling of the House appeared to coincide; the Speaker to the treasurer for funds at once applied, and at the sight of money there arose, from every side, one universal clamour of—"Divide! divide! divide!"

LIGHTS OF THE PRESENT, NOT OF OTHER DAYS.

'Tis moonlight where the silver waters stray,
'Tis safety-light in mines or caverns deep;
'Tis waxlight at the dinner-party gay,
'Tis rushlight in the room where mortals sleep.

'Tis candlelight in many a parlour neat,
Where father, mother, children, sit at tea:
'Tis gaslight in the office, shop, and street,
'Tis twilight when the muffin-boy we see.

'Tis skylight in the high and vaulted dome,
'Tis Bengal light where ships in danger toss,
'Tis Bude light where the Pall Mall loungers roam,
And it is Boccius light at Charing Cross.

A CHARTER PARTY.

The United Female Chartist Washerwomen met a deputation from the Infant Society of Universal Suffrage and Vote by Ballot Orphans, in the long room of the Institution belonging to the former, when a discussion ensued on the subject of the Charter.

It was at length resolved to extend the five _pints_ to six; and it was finally agreed that three quarts should constitute the measure they are jointly going for.

Upon a proposition that they should adopt the principle of the whole hog, a discussion arose as to whether the gammon was to be included; but it was soon decided that the whole hoggites would be nothing at all, if it were not for the gammon, which was accordingly retained by a large majority.

The following subscriptions, in aid of the "Victim Fund," were then read by the secretary, who stated that the amounts were in the hands of the treasurer who was absent from indisposition:

_Subscriptions to the "Victim Fund."_

£ _s._ _d._

Eight-and-twenty patriotic mothers 0 0 9

Three charwomen, who are ready to scour the country in 0 0 3
aid of the good cause

Nine tailors, who feel as one man 0 0 1

Ten patriotic grandmothers, who would see their 0 0 5
grandchildren enjoying their freedom in the land of
their grandfathers

The hands employed upon St. Martin's clock 0 0 6

The great petition was then brought forward for additional signatures, when it was resolved, that knowing how to write should not be a _sine quâ non_ for signing it. Several chartist children were permitted to put their marks, and the grand master of the lodge of juvenile levellers was appointed as controller of the sand and blotting paper.

In the evening tea was served, and several rounds of patriotic toasts were given.

26. Bonaparte escaped from Elba, 1815.

Napoleon could not bear the exile's doom,
And Elba left, in search of Elba (elbow) room.

MORALS FOR THE MILLION.

There's nothing, in the present day,
That's done by halves; all's in the wholesale way.
We've singing for the million, not the few,
And now we've writing for the million too.
The penny post has raised a batch,
Who manifest such zeal,
In scribbling with their pens of steel,
They seem to be inspired by Old Scratch.
The singing for the million's very well;
And if they would but tune the postman's bell,
Or make the dustman keep
Within the rules of harmony,
By always giving out his cry
In octaves, with the sweep;
Or, if the muffin-man could only be
Persuaded to adopt the treble key,
So that his voice in melody might rise,
And as a tenor might be reckon'd,
Supported by the deep bass second
Of him whose song is—"Here's your kidney pies!"
In anybody's system we'll believe
That can such excellent results achieve;
If methods for the million thrive,
No doubt the time will soon arrive
When schools will by the multitude be sought,
Where morals for the million will be taught.
Then honesty will out of fashion go;
And virtue, if it sinks to the mobility,
Of course, by all pretending to gentility
Will then be voted low.
If, in the present day,
'Tis thought much spirit to display
To steal a street-door knocker, or a bell,
Why not, in time, take handkerchiefs as well?
As the _élite_ of fashion will be few,
Policemen will have little then to do
Cases of robbery to detect,
For thieving will be so select.
Morality will then be taught
In every alley, lane, and court;
The principles of honour to instil
They'll open schools on Saffron Hill.
St. Giles will be the most revered of names,
And the swell mob may then be found
In western rookeries to abound—
Their sanctuary the clubs that grace St. James.

NEW SAINT GILES's—Morals for the Million.
]

A FEW FACTS.

It is a fact that Mr. Graball has resigned his very lucrative situation, and that he thus relinquishes a thousand a year—_but_ he has received another appointment with a salary of fifteen hundred.

It is a fact that Mr. Skinflint put half-a-crown into the plate at the last charity sermon—_but_ it was a bad one.

It is a fact that the once dissipated and extravagant Mr. Meltall remained at home every evening last week—_but_ he had no money to go out with.

It is a fact that the improvident and faithless Mr. Squander took up a bill for ten pounds—_but_ he gave one for twenty on the previous day, in order to accomplish the object.

It is a fact that the master of one of the Union Workhouses shed a tear— _but_ he was standing near the cook who was scraping horse-radish.

It is a fact that Mr. Overhead can place his hand upon his heart, and declare he does not owe a shilling in the world—_but_ he has just taken the benefit of the Insolvent Act.

It is a fact that Lord Stingy patronised the performances at Covent Garden Theatre twice last season—_but_ he went with an order on each occasion.

It is a fact that the benevolent Mr. Bountiful gave his watch and purse to a miserable object on Hounslow Heath—_but_ he perceived a stout bludgeon peeping from beneath the rags of the mendicant.

It is a fact that the coffer-dam of the Hungerford Suspension Bridge was drained completely dry—_but_ it was full of water a week afterwards.

It is a fact that Oxford Street is at last paved with wood—_but_ the alteration has caused much annoyance to the heads of the parish.

It is a fact that the Society for the protection of life against fire were on the spot with their apparatus—_but_ it was two days after the conflagration had happened.

It is a fact that Mr. Feeling _expresses_ great sympathy for the poor— _but_ he was never known to _feel_ in his pocket for their relief.

It is a fact that some of the low-priced bakers give full weight—_but_ they are very liberal of alum.

MARCH WINDS.

The Meteorological Society held their great meeting on Waterloo Bridge, to watch the nature of the March winds, and several very interesting phenomena were made manifest. A member having placed himself in one of the recesses, waited the coming of a gust from the north, and was presently in a position to relate the following particulars.

His first sensation was that of a severe blow in the face, which drew moisture from both his eyes, and sent out his hair into a number of almost horizontal lines, some of them forming right angles with his forehead. On turning his back, for the purpose of further experiments, his hat underwent such rapid rarefaction, that, becoming considerably lighter than the air, it was carried, in a slanting direction, a few inches from his head, when the expansive power of the atmosphere having ceased to take full effect, the gossamer fell by its own specific gravity to the earth, and revolved on its own axis as far as the toll-gate.

A most interesting experiment was then tried with an ordinary umbrella, upon which, in its closed state, the March wind was found to have no particular power, though it was ascertained that there was an equal atmospheric pressure on every part of the gingham. On putting the umbrella up, and presenting it to the wind, the holder of the machine was carried gently backwards, but on his turning round, the sight became very animating to the bystanders. The umbrella was completely turned inside out, and, at length, the whole concern collapsed with a frightful crash—the points to which the gingham was fastened being compressed together in a reverse position to that which they were intended to occupy. The iron rods attached to the whalebone immediately fell into angular figures, and it was not thought advisable to proceed further with the experiment.

It was proved, beyond the possibility of doubt, that if the human eye be kept wide open in a March wind, the dust will be carried upwards until it reaches the organ of vision. This was experienced in two or three cases; and an enthusiast in the cause repeated the experiment several times, when it was found to fail in no single instance.

DISTRAINING FOR RENT.—A COURT LEVY.

Hollo! What's this?—of dirty-looking fellows what a bevy! It's the sheriff's people, I declare, coming to hold a levy; It's true, since in the place I've been, no rent I've had to pay, But they might give one a little quarter, at least, on quarter day. They know I've paid some taxes, and surely might have waited, For, like a book that's greatly puff'd, I'm sadly overrated; The landlord surely did not think that I would have decamp'd, Although by last year's water I was very nearly swamp'd. They charge one dear for stuff that e'en to think of makes one shiver, Much more to drink; I mean, of course, the fluid from the river; By paying for it separate, as water, we're deluded, For, when we come to use it, we find the gas included; But, then, the Water Companies at trifles never stick, They really lay it on, at times, abominably thick; The tax collectors of distress will never make no bones, I'm sure the paving board are, in their hearts, a set of stones. And as for windows, 'tis a shame, a rate for them to levy, Which makes, as every one allows, the light come precious heavy; But what am I about? oh! dear, amid this long digression, The broker's man's got in, and I have lost my self-possession!

5. A protocol signed, announcing Mehemet Ali's unconditional
submission to the Sultan.

The Sultan now may stand at ease,
Though Mehemet made him tremble daily,
When Ali, bent upon a breeze,
Was regularly Haily Galey.

31. The Allied Sovereigns entered Paris, 1814, and on the last day
of the month ended their _march_.

COLD WATER.

BY A PUPIL OF ONE OF THE LAKE POETS.

Some sing the peaceful pleasures of the plains,
While other bards invoke the groves and woods;
But I, enamour'd of incessant rains,
Will make my theme cold water and the floods.

Let others sit beneath the leafy shade,
While murmuring breezes softly float about;
But I in purling brooks delight to wade,
Or stand beneath some friendly water-spout.

'Tis sweet the nectar of the gods to quaff,
And very pleasant is the rosy wine;
Refreshing is the taste of "half-and-half,"
But of all drinks cold water shall be mine.

The verdant turf is grateful to the feet,
And some recline upon the mossy vale;
But smoothest lawns yield not so soft a seat,
As that afforded by a well-fill'd pail.

Before another century has fled,
Water, thy virtues none will dare deny;
Posterity will humbly bare its head,
When thou in rain descendest from the sky.

The workman, when his daily labour's done,
Eager alike for luxury and rest,
Will to his water-butt impatient run,
The spigot turn—lie under—and be blest!

No longer to the couch will idlers fly,
When the siesta they would fain invite;
But 'neath the pump will indolently lie,
While lackeys work away with all their might.

No more will builders try their utmost skill,
As now, to render houses waterproof;
But all their tiles in little holes they'll drill
And make a shower-bath in every roof.

Economists will search in every street
For friendly water-spouts supplied with rain;
Where, gratis, they may with the luxury meet—
Ay, luxury!—of water on the brain.

No more shall watering-pots their blessings shed,
Alone on vegetables, fruit, and flowers;
But man, reclining on a water bed,
Shall be refresh'd by gently falling showers.

Umbrellas, also, will be only known
By specimens in old museums seen,
Which, as barbaric relics, will be shown
Of customs curious that once have been.

And if some Macintosh (which now we wear,
To keep off wet) escape the wreck of time,
Posterity may find it, and declare
Such cruel things were made to punish crime.

And when 'tis read in history's faithful page
That pickpockets were pump'd on, now and then,
Our children will despise a foolish age,
That so much honour'd such unworthy men.

Then hail! all hail! to hydropathic skill,
Upon whose principles it stands confess'd,
That he who cisterns vast will freely swill
May dropsy cure—or water on the chest.

For nauseous drugs no use there soon will be;
For salts, magnesia, senna, no pretence;
Dispensing chemists, all men will agree
To view as things with which they can dispense.

Physic to agriculture they'll apply,
And write prescriptions for a sickly crop;
With fever mixtures, when the land's too dry,
Inflammatory action they will stop.

In every farm, so modern _savans_ say,
A chemist will be always needed near;
For, if the corn unhealthiness display,
He'd dose it for diseases of the ear.

A PROVERB REFUTED.

At the Surrey menagerie every one knows,
(Because 'tis a place to which every one goes,)
There's a model of Rome; and as round it one struts,
One sinks the remembrance of Newington Butts;
And having a shilling laid down at the portal,
One fancies one's self in the city immortal.
This model so splendid one night was burn'd down,
When, lo! the next day, 'twas announced to the town
That the damage had all been repair'd and put straight,
In time for the next zoological _fête_.
Then who is there henceforth will venture to say
That Rome cannot sometimes be built in a day.

IMPORTATION OF FOREIGN ASSES UNDER THE
NEW TARIFF.

Oh! what on earth induced Sir Robert Peel
Such wondrous sympathy to feel
For that unprofitable class—the foreign ass?
When we have native asses by the score,
How could Sir Robert think we needed more?
But the provision is not worth a pin,
Which now, for twenty shillings, lets them in;
When they have all along been coming over,
For half a guinea, in the boats to Dover.
If with the common donkey we compare
The foreign asses—they display
A trifling difference of bray,
With coats peculiar, and lengthy hair.
Zoologists the jackass would describe
As of the vertebrated tribe,
But then there's so much softness in the head,
To the molluscous class, it might be said,
The foreign donkey throng—belong.
With further information all may meet,
On any afternoon, in Regent-street.

9. Fire Insurances due.

All those who don't wish their insurance to stop,
Out of policy wont let their policy drop;
And 'tis better, a premium though they require,
To be scorch'd in the _Sun_, than burnt out in the fire.

ODE TO SIGNOR RUBINI.

Great vocalist! that tak'st, with wondrous ease,
A rapid passage on the highest C's;
Thy compass beats the mariner's quite hollow,
For where it leads none but thyself can follow;
And then the wind, at will, 'tis thou canst raise,
By gentle airs, for which the public pays;
Thy skill e'en that of Orpheus far surpasses,
He charm'd wild beasts, but thou enchantest asses,
As in their stalls—places for donkeys fit—
With ears erect the dilettanti sit.
When hanging on the honey of thy lip,
Mellifluous harmony we seem to sip;
And, listening to the strain sent forth by thee,
A paradise the opera would be,
But for the little truth our purses teach,
That we are _minus_ half a guinea each.

British Museum 2043—Curiosities of Ancient Times.
]

THE BRITISH MUSEUM TWO HUNDRED
YEARS HENCE.

The British Association for the Advancement of Science, which began its meetings at Bristol, has since been strongly recommended to go to Bath; and if it is not sent permanently to Coventry before the year 2043, we may conceive its having reached by that time a state of stagnancy in the neighbourhood of Bloomsbury. As there will, of course, be antiquarians among them, imagination can easily picture them clinging fondly to St. Giles's, as the quarter inhabited by the Anglo-Greeks; and the members will, no doubt, be searching, a hundred years hence, for the fossil remains of petrified crows in the neighbourhood of the Rookery.

The following is an anticipatory report of the meeting of the Association, after having been cradled in the laps of time during the lapse of a couple of centuries.

REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE, APRIL 1, 2043.

Your Committee have the satisfaction to state that, their funds being thoroughly exhausted, they have been enabled to save the usual expense of travelling, and have taken advantage of the liberality of the Government for the purpose of visiting the British Museum. Your Committee remained some time at the outer gate, for the purpose of making some observations on two boxes, which it is understood have been there for sentries; but, as they have not discovered what a sentry is, your Committee conclude that the word must be a corruption of centuries.

On going through the court-yard the Association made some experiments upon the atmosphere, with the view of calculating the difference (by means of the differential calculus) between the air inside the gates and that which circulates on the outside; but your Committee are unable to state any satisfactory result to their arduous experiment.

On entering the hall of the Museum your Committee have to complain of being deprived of their walking-sticks; but this annoyance was in some degree compensated by their receiving in exchange some very curious pieces of tin, which are, no doubt, of very ancient origin. They were at once referred to the chairman of the mineralogical section, who pronounced them to be the coin generally in use in the nineteenth century, for the word tin is frequently met with, in old books, where money is clearly the article alluded to.

Upon reaching the great room your Committee were met by an officer of the Museum, who conducted them over the building, and pointed out to your Committee the chief objects of interest.

The Association had the satisfaction of looking at a very ancient machine, called the stocks, which served the double purpose of punishing offenders and regulating the money market. The chairman of your Committee was appointed to sit on the stocks, and did so for a considerable time, in the course of which he fully ascertained how they might have been available for punishment, but he is still at a loss to discover the monetary uses which our ancestors evidently put them to. It must be regarded as one of the lost arts, like chuck-farthing, and other mysteries, which are now only left to us in the pages of history.

Your Committee were greatly delighted by a series of portraits of a tribe of individuals, carrying _flagelli_, or whips, and whose noses were made the subject of a very learned paper by your president. The extreme redness of the point was formerly supposed to arise from drinking brandy; but your president having taken several successive draughts of that spirit, without any peculiar redness in the nose becoming immediately obvious, was prevented by exhaustion, ending in utter prostration, from continuing his very ingenious and interesting experiment. It is believed, by your Committee, that the redness of nose, which was characteristic of the old _auriga_, or coach-driver, arose from a constant habit of blushing, which the peculiar modesty of the race, as it is found alluded to in reports of police cases in past ages, would account for easily.

But the great attraction to your Committee consisted in the two celebrated figures of antiquity, known to the public as the Whig and Tory, by whom, according to old writers, this country was torn for a considerable period. Your committee congratulate themselves that they do not live in those shocking times, when, according to contemporary writers, the Whigs ruined the British Constitution four times in six years, and the Tories gave, in the same period, eleven death-blows to public liberty. How the Constitution ever was restored to health, or how liberty was brought to life, has greatly puzzled your Committee; but they have at last discovered that there were, in those days certains pills which eradicated everything; and, as mention is made in old books of various pillars of the state, your Committee have no hesitation in attributing the wondrous cures to the means alluded to.

Your Committee had almost forgotten to mention a very curious old machine, called a drop; and, taken in connexion with the black-letter phrase of "a drop too much," there can be no doubt that the drop now in the Museum was that which is constantly spoken of as "too much," by the old chroniclers.

The remains of a gibbet also gave rise to a curious discussion in one of the sections, and your Committee at last decided that the instrument was used by a hanging committee attached to a society of painters, who, under the pretext of executing justice, were in the habit of resorting to all sorts of cruelty.

The Association were likewise favoured with the perusal of a very scarce old volume, mysteriously labelled, "A tax-gatherer's Book;" from which your Committee are led to infer, that there were formerly a class of marauders who traversed the kingdom, going from door to door, and exacting sums of money from the inhabitants. To show the frivolous pretexts that sufficed for these plunderers to carry on their system of rapine, your Committee have only to observe that a demand was made on account of light and air, which were actually in those days paid for by the people in the form of what was called a window-tax.

Your Committee having concluded their inspection of the British Museum, returned into the open air; and a shower of rain coming on, they had an opportunity of making a series of observations on the effect which moisture produces upon the skin, and the power of the animal caloric, in the human foot, to resist for a time the chill ultimately engendered by walking into puddles.

1843.] MAY.

THE BOUNDARY QUESTION.

The parlours of a house in Pleasant Row
Were occupied by Mrs. Snow;
The first-floor front and back
Were tenanted by Mrs. Black.
As neighbours, it is doubtful whether
They might not, perhaps, have lived and loved together,
But for their occupations ever clashing—
Both took in washing!
In quarrels they might ne'er have been entangled,
With bitter, friendship's cup had ne'er been dash'd,
If Mrs. Snow alone had wash'd,
Or had the fates ordain'd that Mrs. Black had mangled.
But destiny had otherwise decreed!
On the same house the passer-by might read
Two boards inscribed with letters large and clear,
"Washing done," said one;
The other, mocking, answered "here."
Heart-burnings soon arose,
Both wish'd to boil their clothes,
A wish, on either side, extremely proper,
Yet neither one was worth a separate copper.
But linen (as to all the world is known)
Is not got out of hand by being boil'd alone;
Another process it must needs abide—
It must be dried;
The operation of the tub
Was, in this instance, not the only rub!
In little houses it is always found,
The space is small allowed for drying ground.
Such was the fault in mapping out the Row
Inhabited by Mesdames Black and Snow;
The boundary question they could never settle,
The copper feud had put them on their mettle;
And, to this day, it's not agreed, in fine,
Where each shall be content to draw the line.

REPORT ON THE PUBLIC HEALTH..

The Commissioners for inquiring into the state of the public health have forwarded to each of their assistants a copy of the following questions, with instructions to put them to all persons residing in, visiting, or passing through the district:—

_Q._ How are you?

This was the first and most obvious inquiry that the Commissioners ordered to be addressed to the population; but, as the returns were by no means so full as could be desired, it was determined to add another question, which should distinguish those cases in which disease has been inherited. For this purpose it was arranged that a second, or supplementary question should be framed, and the Commissioners drew up the following:—

_Q._ How is your mother?

To both these questions the Commissioners have received numerous replies, most of them short and concise; but it has been observed that considerable soreness has been exhibited in some cases, in which it has been thought advisable to ask for information under the second head. The habits, or, perhaps, the Commissioners ought rather to say, the prejudices of the English people are averse to any investigation into their domestic affairs; and many, when the health of their mothers has been inquired into, have manifested a spirit that the Commissioners have found very detrimental to the success of their efforts.

It occurred to the Commissioners that the chemists' shops in poor neighbourhoods would supply a vast mass of statistical information on the subject of the public health, and they have ordered a return of all the prescriptions made up within the last year, classing them under the two heads of cathartic and stimulant. The Commissioners have also ordered a schedule to be drawn up of all medicine-bottles purchased at the rag-shops, and have instructed their assistants to drain the contents of those which were not quite empty, for the purpose of ascertaining their properties, with a view to classing them under the heads already mentioned.

It has been clearly ascertained that, in nine cases of acute tooth-ache, in a very low neighbourhood, six "had it out," one applied a leech to the gum, and two did nothing. In a series of ninety-four cases of cough, it has been calculated that four ounces of Spanish liquorice were consumed, while about one moiety of the patients very patiently waited to see what time would do for them.

The Commissioners observe, with regret, that the ordinary sneeze has been lately prevalent, but it does not appear that any safe mode of treatment has yet been discovered for checking it. The Commissioners think it better to trust to nature in such a matter, though they have known the operation of drawing the finger smartly along the bridge of the nose, towards the forehead, sometimes successfully resorted to.

A Set-of China-1843.
]

CHINA.

_Private Letter from a Corporal in a Regiment forming part
of the Expedition._

ADAWED GAL,