SCRAPS FROM THE ANNUAL REGISTER.
Jan. 9.—At a general meeting of the Governors of Christ's Hospital, Sir John Soane's splendid architectural design for a new gateway to the school was adopted, with one dissentient only, to whom it was conceded, at his special request, that his protégé should be allowed to enter through a Pipe of Port.
Feb. 10.—An eminent apothecary in the New Road attended at Marylebone office to prosecute his errand boy, who, when sent out with medicine, being versed in Shakspeare, used to "throw physic to the dogs," and sell the empty bottles: the boy had spent the money in going to see the Bottle Imp. The doctor said his suspicions were first excited by finding his patients suddenly getting well. His worship at first threatened the culprit with the pillory and the black-hole; but afterwards changed the sentence into pills and a black draught, as more severe, and desired his master to take him home and dose him.
March 10.—A young lady at the Bucks county ball was apparently seized with convulsions in the midst of a quadrille. Her mamma ran to her assistance, and matters were soon restored. It seems that, her waist having been reduced to the minimum of magnitude, she was always obliged to be unhooked behind before she could sneeze.
May 25.—An elderly Gentleman was charged with having kissed a Lady for a Lark, in the fields near Kentish Town. He was fined five shillings for not being a better naturalist, with an admonition from the worthy magistrate, that most of the birds in that district belonged to the order "Pass-er."
June 23.—The splendid pair of yahoos, recently presented to the So-oh!-logical Society by the Duke of C——, have shown such extraordinary apt-ness, under the influence of example and good society, that on Sunday last, after having been submitted to the respective operations of Mr. Stulz and Madame Carson, they were allowed to walk out among the fashionables, when they deported themselves so well, that none but those in the secret could distinguish them from the rest of the company.
July 15.—The torrents which ushered in the morning led many to believe that, as this was the first day of St. Swithin's reign, so he had also selected it for his coronation; and in this they were confirmed by the streaming of the people along the streets, and the wringing of the Belles.
Aug. 26.—At the meeting of the British Association, at Bristol, Professor Buckland announced, as an indisputable fact, that the antediluvians kept cows, and vended their produce as we do; for, in the plains of Bul-garia, he had recently discovered a petrified milk walk, with a fragment of a fossil pump-handle at the end of it.
Sept. 1.—A sporting Cockney was unlucky enough to hit a cow in the calf of her leg, at Hornsey. She was no sooner in a limp than he was in a hobble, and he found to his cost that leg of beef is not always to be peppered with impunity.
Sept. 12.—Mr. Curtis announced his intention of standing for the Borough of Eye, in the event of a dissolution of Parliament, and made his opening speech to the voters amidst cries of "Ear! Ear!"
Oct. 10.—"Found, a healthy male Infant," &c., &c. That ancient sine quâ non to persons crossing the seas, a child's caul, is now a mere drug in the market. Instead of making it a compagnon de voyage, numbers cross the seas to avoid it. A child's call, in high preservation, may be picked up on any moonlight night, in any blind alley where you see "Rubbish to be shot here." A handbill headed "Desertion," formerly a monstrosity of un-English shape, is now a forme that the parish printer always keeps standing; and the beadles dryly observe, that they are become wet nurses to the children of half the parish. The Honourable Commissioners of the mechanical powers, Messrs. Leave-er, Wedge, and Screw, are indefatigable in fulfilling the intentions of their employers who have devised this happy state of things, to save themselves and their hopeful heirs from the unpleasant necessity of answering "A child's call."
Nov. 2.—A resolution was carried in the Common Council not to allow any more money for summer excursions on the water. The minority said they dreaded the vengeance of the ladies, and many members returned home in a very unhappy state, looking anxiously about for inscriptions of "Broken crockery mended here;" for they knew, by past experience, that man is the vessel that goes to pot when it comes to family jars.
Our revels concluded, a merry farewell
To all but a few irreclaimable sinners,
Who, if they were honest, might happen to tell
That they've had their deserts, tho' we've ruin'd their dinners.
THE
COMIC ALMANACK
For 1838.
MANNERS MADE EASY;
OR, HOW TO COBBLE A SILK PURSE OUT OF A SOW'S EAR.
"Γαμμον ανδ Σπιναγε."
Punctuality is essential to the character of a Gentleman. Early in the New Year send peremptorily for all your bills. If they do not arrive in a day or two, send again. By this exactness, you give your tradesmen confidence, and ensure their civility for some time, in the hope of a settlement. Having thus prevented any increase of charges, you can pay at your leisure. I have heard of a gentleman whose aversion to the sight of paper ruled in money columns had been indulged in as long as was consistent with his personal safety, who thus addressed a creditor for whom the shut sesame of "call again" had lost its charm. "After having for many years neglected my affairs, I have at length awakened to a sense of my error, and have resolved, by a vigorous system of economy, to retrieve them. Method, Sir, I now perceive that method is everything. From this day I set apart a certain portion of my income sacred to the payment of my debts."—"I am delighted, Sir, to hear of your noble resolution."—"I have made a schedule of all I owe, and shall begin at the top and persevere undeviatingly in regular though slow succession towards the bottom:—so that you see, my dear Mr. Figgins"—"Sir, my name is Wiggins"—"Wiggins! I had quite forgot; but I am sorry to hear it, very sorry—for my list is alphabetical. Had it been Figgins, or even Higgins, there would have been some chance for you, but the W's are so very low down.—No, I cannot say when I shall reach the W's."
If you wish to refuse the request of an old friend or a poor relation, but can hardly screw your courage to the sticking-place, put on a pair of tight shoes, and you will find it perfectly easy.
Never introduce your friends to strangers without their consent, nor permit such a liberty towards yourself, especially about November. Many have been entrapped into the hands of John Doe and Richard Roe thereby, unawares.
Choose rainy days to pay your visits on. You will thus show your sincerity, and be less likely to miss callers at home. Take your cloak and hat into the drawing-room—to leave them below would be like one of the family—but, above all, carry in your umbrella; you have no right to leave it streaming in another person's hall.
When you visit your maiden aunt, as you value your legacy expectant, preserve an amiable face, and keep you hands and feet to yourself, while her favourite tom cat reposes in you the height of his friendship by looking you full in the face and vigorously stretching himself by the aid of his ten talons hooked through your tight and tender kerseymeres.
Though you may be a Nabob, or as rich as one, be not too anxious to parade your black servants before your friends, for both your sakes; they have, in general, two bad qualities—"stealing and giving odour."—Shakspeare, hem!
Never marry a widow (unless her first husband was hanged), or she will be always drawing unpleasant comparisons.
Never refuse a pinch of snuff, but do not become a snuff-taker: it is paying through the nose for a little pleasure.
Avoid argument with Ladies. In spinning a yarn among Silks and Satins, a man is sure to be Worsted.
It is common to speak contemptuously of tailors and dress-makers. This is bad taste; none but a rat would run down the sewers.
When a lady sits down to the pianoforte, always volunteer to turn over the leaves. To be able to read music is of no consequence, as you will know that she is at the bottom of a page when she stops short. If you turn over two leaves at once, you will probably have the secret thanks of most of the company.
When your friend enters the room instantly rise, and, though there may be half a dozen unoccupied chairs at hand, draw him with gentle force into your own. You will thus show the warmth of your friendship; for a damp seat may be as bad as a damp bed.
In driving out never make a lady treasurer of the turnpike trusts;—or, when you want twopence for a toll, you have to wait while the reticule string is snapped in two; then, out comes a lace-edged white muslin worked pocket-handkerchief, a pair of lemon-coloured kid-gloves, a smelling-bottle, a bunch of keys, and, to crown all, a five-shilling piece to change. All this time you are stuck fast in the jaws of a turnpike gate, the Brighton Quicksilver in your rear, driver raving at your back, leaders snorting over your shoulder.
Never plan a pic-nic, on pain of skulking about the town for six months after, dreading to meet, at every turn, the infuriated looks of the bereaved parents of half a dozen little innocents in white frocks and trousers, who have been washed away by an inundation; or to encounter the menacing glances of budding heroes, fierce in the rudiments of moustaches and chin-tufts, whose Celias and Delias have dropped into a decline through sitting on the damp grass at your instigation.
Never hesitate to take a friend with you when you go out to dinner. Disappointments are so frequent that the lady of the house may perhaps be glad of a spare gentleman to fill up a gap.
In carving, remember that "'twere well it were done quickly." He must be, therefore, the best carver who soonest fills the greatest number of plates. Waste no time in asking if people like a wing or a leg, this bit or that—many do not know their minds on any subject. Besides, as they cannot all have the prime cuts, nothing but discontent can ensue from giving them the choice.
As too much of a good thing is morally impossible, fill the plates well—the delicate can leave half, and the modest are saved the unpleasantness of a second application; besides making the hostess your eternal friend, if, through your management in the outset, some of the dishes go away uncut for another day.
Always return into the dish, before it goes from table, any portion of a ragout that your friends may leave in their plates. It is ten to one if your careless servants think of doing so afterwards.
Instead of waiting for the dessert, let your children come in with the first course—they cannot be used to good society too soon. They will furnish topics for conversation, and if any present be vulgar enough to require a second supply of soup, when the tureen is at low water mark, they will probably relieve your embarrassment by upsetting it, and so dispose of the question.
Help the darlings first—they are dearer to you than mere visitors, to whom you might, otherwise, inadvertently transfer some delicate bits on which the little cherubs had set their minds.
Do not detain the toothpick long after dinner—it's unpleasant to be kept waiting for it.
If a lady request you to select an apple for her, bite a piece out. How can you recommend it without?
Always wipe the brim of a pot of porter with your sleeve, if you are about to hand it to a lady.