CHRISTMAS BILLS.
(Mrs. Figgins loquitur.)
Merry Christmas and happy New Year!
Here's a bundle of "little accounts:"
And their bearers left word they'd be glad
If you'd settle their little amounts.
They've all got "large sums" to "make up,"
And cannot wait longer, they swear:
So I wish you the joys of the season—
Merry Christmas and happy New Year!
Here's the doctor's—a horrid long bill—
And he vows he's as badly as you;
For his patients wont pay him a groat,
And he's dying of Tick Doloreux.
But he says he's consulted a friend,
A lawyer that lives very near:
So I wish you the joys of the season—
Merry Christmas and happy New Year!
The surgeon's is not a whit less:
At its items I really shiver'd:
A hundred for Sally's confinement;
A hundred to "Bill delivered."
A hundred for mixtures and pills
(I think it's uncommonly dear):
But I wish you the joys of the season—
Merry Christmas and happy New Year!
The baker has brought you a roll
Which will take you a month to digest:
He looks most uncommonly crusty,
And says that, of all trades, he's blest
If a baker's is not the most kneady;
And hints at John Dough; and I fear—
But I wish you the joys of the season,
Merry Christmas and happy New Year!
The poult'rer his "Game Bill" has brought:
This year's—and last year's in addition,
Twelve guineas for Black-cock alone,
Which I think is a grouse imposition.
Ten guineas for pheasants and hares!
And he charges his ven'son as deer.
But I wish you the joys of the season—
Merry Christmas and happy New Year!
Here's your butcher—the city M.P.—
Begs to "ax leave to bring in his bill."
It takes up six folio pages:
Good heavens! it's as long as a will.
He says times are quite out of joint;
And he must have the cash; so, my dear,
I wish you the joys of the season—
Merry Christmas and happy New Year!
Your grocer abuses you grossly,
Your hatter, and tailor surtout;
Your saddler's been going on sadly,
And your green-grocer looks very blue.
The brewer is down in the hall,
And wont stir till he's paid for his beer;
So I wish you the joys of the season—
Merry Christmas and happy New Year!
Then there's my little bill of two hundred
For laces and trimmings—but laws!
You wont grudge your poor rib a few ribbons;
Will you, duck?—and ten guineas for gauze.
And a hundred for bonnets and hats,
And my last di'mond set—such a dear!—
Kiss me, love! Oh! the joys of the season!
Merry Christmas and happy New Year!
And the ponies—my pet little Grey,
And Miss Slimlegs, and Giraffe, and Beauty:
(But you know, love, they're all under size,
And so don't pay a farthing of duty;)
The coach-hacks, but two hundred pounds:
(We don't drive our own tits—that's dear:)
So I wish you the joys of the season—
Merry Christmas and happy New Year!
And, oh dear! here's a note from your steward!
He says your estate he's been round,
And examined your books and your papers;
And you can't pay a crown in the pound.
There's writs out against you by scores;
You're surrounded by tipstaves and bums;
So I wish you, my love, a good Christmas!
And a happy New Year—when it comes!
FEBRUARY.—Valentine's Day.
| 1837.] | FEBRUARY. | |||
|---|---|---|---|---|
| No more the farmer's dame shall rue | ||||
| The slaughter of her poultry crew; | ||||
| Compell'd, this month, to sign a truce | ||||
| With turkey, donkey, pig, and goose, | ||||
| The Cockney Sportsman grounds his arms, | ||||
| And dicky birds are free from harms; | ||||
| Percussion guns become a jest, | ||||
| Put on their caps, and go to rest. | ||||
| D. | Great Events and Odd Matters. | Prognostifications. | ||
| 1 | New River begun, 1608. Drunk at a Temperance meeting 1836. | than | ||
| 2 | Candlemas Day. Some dark affair now brought to light. | ☍ ♀ △ ♐ | ||
| 3 | Blaise. "Farmers, look to your ricks!"—Swing. | |||
| are dreamt | ||||
| 4 | A fair warms the bosom of Old Father Thames, 1814. | |||
![]() | of in our | |||
| 5 | ||||
| philosophy, | ||||
| 6 | ||||
| 7 | Shrove Tues. A great Fry-day. Mrs. Fry pan-egyrised. | ♀ ⚹ ♎ | ||
![]() | ||||
| 8 | ||||
| so are | ||||
| 9 | ||||
| there other | ||||
| 10 | ||||
| aspects, | ||||
| 11 | Sir Jeffery Dunstan. "No real knight." | |||
| 12 | 1 Sunday in Lent. Corporal punishment promoted by General Fast. | ⊕ ♄ ♌ ♀ | ||
| 13 | besides | |||
| 14 | Valentine. All Fools' Day. | sideral | ||
| 15 | ones, | |||
| 16 | VALENTINE TO MISS MARTINEAU. | that do | ||
| 17 | ![]() | "Come, live with me, and be my love," | ![]() | marvellously |
| And we to all the world will prove | ||||
| 18 | "That hill and valley, grove and field" | influence | ||
| Are waste, if Nature's stores they yield; | ||||
| 19 | While rustic joys and simple swains | ♉☊♀ | ||
| Are nought compared to rich men's gains. | ||||
| 20 | We'll demonstrate, to please the Tabbies, | and affect | ||
| That none but boobies will have babbies, | ||||
| 21 | And dose and diet all the nation, | us. | ||
| To check the growing population. | ||||
| 22 | Our virgin thoughts, as pure as "vargis," | ♐ ♋ | ||
| Will ne'er increase the public charges; | ||||
| 23 | So cease in frowns thy face to deck, | |||
| Thy mind's the best preventive check. | The configurations | |||
| 24 | ||||
![]() | ||||
| 25 | of the constellations | |||
| 26 | ||||
| 27 | ♀ ♅ ⚹ ☿ | |||
| do not | ||||
| 28 | Hare-hunting ends. Cats'-skins rise. | augur more | ||




