THE AMUSING RATTLE'S NOTE-BOOK FOR 1891.
January.—If dining out on the 1st, remember that the QUEEN was created Empress of Hindostan on that date in 1877, although the Opposition tried to hinder her from assuming the title. Work this out. Lent Term commences at Oxford and Cambridge. Can't be given away if only lent. This entertaining quibble (suitable to five o'clock teas in Bayswater) can be applied to other topics. Note the colours of the Universities, and bring in somehow "a fit of the blues." On the 13th PITT died, on the 14th FOX was born. First date suggestive of PITT, the second of pity. Good joke for the Midlands. Put it down to SHERIDAN.
February.—On the 3rd Lord SALISBURY born on St. Blaise's festival. Consequently might be expected to set the Thames on fire. This said with a sneer, should go splendidly at a second-rate Radical luncheon-party. On the 14th, if you receive an uncomplimentary missive, say it is less suggestive of Valentine than Orson. This capital jest should make you a welcome guest in places where they laugh until the end of the month.
March.—Not much doing. On the 8th Battle of Abookir, 1801. If you take care to pronounce the victory A-book-er, you may possibly get a jest out of it in connection with a welshing transaction on the turf, when you can call it "the defeat of A-book-er." Good at a hunting-breakfast where the host is a nonagenarian, who can observe "1801?—the year of my birth!"
April.—Remember BISMARCK was born on the 1st, so it can't be "All Fools' Day." Work this up to amuse a spinster aunt who reads the Times.
May.—You may say of the 1st, if it is cold, that it is a "naughty date." If you are asked for a reason for this assertion, apologise and explain that you meant a "Connaughty date, for it is Prince ARTHUR's Birthday." The claims of loyalty should secure for this quaint conceit a right hearty welcome. In 1812, on the 22nd, GRISI the celebrated songstress was born. At a distance of four hundred miles from London, in extremely unsophisticated society, you may perhaps venture something about the notes of this far-famed artist being like "lubricated lightning" for evident reasons, but you must not expect any one to laugh.
June.—The name of this month may assist you to a joke here and there in regard to a well-known ecclesiastical lawyer and Queen's Counsel. This will be the more valuable, as the "remarkable days" are few and far between, according to WHITAKER.
July.—Note that on the 3rd the Dog Days commence, and that it is also the anniversary of the Battle of Sadowa. If you pronounce the victory "sad-hour" you should get a jest calculated to cause merriment amongst persons who have spent the best years of their lives on desert islands, or as Chancery Division Chief Clerks. On the 24th the Window Tax was abolished, of which you may say that although a priceless boon it was only a light relief. If you can only introduce this really clever bon mot into a speech at a wedding breakfast, a railway indignation meeting or a debate in the House of Lords, it is sure to go with bowls not to say shrieks. PENN died on the 30th, and in founding Pennsylvania was mightier than the sword. This announcement is the nearest approach to levity that in common decency can be tolerated in a mourning coach.
August.—On the 1st, in 1834, no less than 770,280 British slaves were freed. You might ask satirically, how many slaves (be they husbands or be they wives) now exist? You might offer this to a clergyman to be used in a sermon. On the 26th, Anniversary of the Battle of Cressy. Opportunity for saying (at the breaking-up of an infant school) that on account of the extremely warm reception to which the French were welcomed on that occasion, the victory might be appropriately called, "the Battle of Mustard-and-Cressy." This will be found pleasing by a Colonial Briton home on furlough, and an Honorary Royal Academician living in retirement.
