THE
COMIC ALMANACK
For 1837.
| JANUARY. | [1837. | ||
|---|---|---|---|
| Now folks trudge on with muffled faces, | |||
| To meet Dan Winter's cold embraces; | |||
| But he has not the freezing air, | |||
| That upstart, purse-proud worldlings wear. | |||
| Now mischief-making urchins plan, | |||
| With glassy slide, the fall of man; | |||
| But Summer friends, with Wint'ry looks, | |||
| Are slipp'rier far than icy brooks. | |||
| D. | Great Events and Odd Matters. | Prognostifications. | |
| 1 | Curaçoa taken (rather too freely). | ||
| 2 | The Sandwich Islands discovered by a Cook. | Touching | |
| 3 | Let shame and foul disgrace betide the enervated land, which | the Stars, | |
| Forsakes old English suppers for that make-believe, a Sandwich. | |||
| 4 | ♄ ☉ ☌ ♊ | ||
| 5 | Dividends due. Very Consoling, but "Take care of your pockets!" | ||
| (That | |||
| 6 | Twelfth Day. Hilarity Term ends. | ||
| is to say | |||
| 7 | |||
| 8 | General Election. | Tower Hamlets voters soak their Clay, and vote for Lushington.—Lambeth ditto give three hips for Hawes, and huzza! | ☊ ♄ ♂ ☉ |
 | |||
| 9 | with a | ||
| 10 | figurative | ||
| 11 | Cayenne taken by as-salt, 1809. Enemy well peppered. | tangibility, | |
| 12 |  | ⚹ ☉ | |
| 13 | |||
| seeing they | |||
| 14 | |||
| are out of | |||
| 15 | |||
| our reach) | |||
| 16 | FROZE-OUT GARDENERS. | ||
| 17 | Poor half-starv'd, froze-out Gardeners, good gentlefolk, we be— | ♂ ♄ | |
| Hard lines for us, my masters all, as ever you did see; | |||
| 18 | We sits among the trenches in a shake and in a shiver, | ||
| And our poor little babbies are without a bit of kiver; | I do opine, | ||
| 19 | Like snails among the cabbages, they curls themselves around, | ||
| Or, like the little caterpillars, grubbing on the ground. | that | ||
| 20 | We wanders home and dreads to hear of some mishap or other, | ||
| And scarcely dares to ax the pretty darlings "how's your mother?" | whereas, | ||
| 21 | |||
| 22 | Lord Bacon born. (Query, The Fry-er.) | ♏ ♄ ☌ ♀ | |
| 23 | She sold her mangle long ago,—'twere better far nor prigging; | ||
| For we only turns up spades whene'er we tries our hands at digging. | according | ||
| 24 | Without some rain 'tis all in vain. Alack! our hearts is breaking, | ||
| And surely we should break our teeth if we should go a-raking: | to Hamlet, | ||
| 25 | So, night and day, we ever pray the frost it may be going, | ||
| No more they'll let us owe, unless we gets a little hoeing: | |||
| 26 | The parish board don't heed our word; but, looking black or blue, | ♌ ☋ | |
| They reads the Hact o' Parliament, and then cries—"Who are you?" | |||
| 27 | So help the froze-out Gardeners, kind masters every one, | there are | |
| For while you're sporting on the ice, we're starving till it's gone. | |||
| 28 | more things | ||
| 29 | in | ||
| 30 | Lecture on Heads at Whitehall. Price, a crown. | heaven and | |
| 31 | Ben Jonson born. "Shikspur—who wrote Shikspur?" | earth | |
JANUARY,—Last Year's Bills.
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.