22
BOOK
(COMIC ALBUM
10 Tor: -
EVERY TABLE



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THE BEQUEST OF
EVERT JANSEN WENDELL
CLASS OF 1882
OF NEW YORK
1918
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金
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COMIC ALBUM:
A BOOK FOR EVERY TABLE.

V
MOLIN
London :
WM. S. ORR & Co. AMEN CORNER. PATERNOSTER ROW.
MDCCCXLIII.


Il XX 5,22:13
LONDON:
Zijetelly brothers and Co.
PRINTERS AND ENGRAVERI,
135 FLEET STREET.


THE COVIC ALBUM
has escaped, no crevice that might be the lurking-place of
crime has been unransacked, no little foible or peccadillo
has been unchronicled.
But, during all this time, even while the rage for
running-down the whole world was at its height, one
character was, by common consent of authorship, age after
age, held sacred. It has been an established rule that one
personage, and only one, should always be left alone.
That personage is—the Reader !
Authors have not at all scrupled to attack one another
-nay, they have not uncommonly proceeded so far as to
attack themselves, writing so as to effectually destroy, at
fifty, the reputation they had won at twenty-five. But
differing upon every other conceivable point, they have
all concurred in one thing—never to run down the Reader ;
-never to insinuate-no, not so much as to imagine, that
the Reader could possibly be one of those poor forked
animals whom they were picturing under the appellation of
Men. Oh, no! the book might be full of hard, savage,
cunning, mercenary samples of mortality, with “such is
life” written beneath the frightful portraitures—but the
Reader all the time was “gentle,” “courteous," "candid,”
and “ sagacious !"
As a certain poet was said to have perceived nothing,
with his two open eyes, but “ himself and the universe," |
so the cunning author in general, whatever be the size or
subject of his book, may be said to write with two distinct
objects ever before his visual organs-human-nature and
the Reader!
Now before we proceed to speculate who the Reader
really is, we must intimate that this custom of extraordinary
and exclusive civility to Readers of every kind, is not, at
least in the present day, the result of fear ; it is not the
servile homage of the few to the many ; because it is well
known that if a correct return were made of their respective
numbers in this country, the writing-public would be found
to be in a great numerical majority over the reading-public.
We mention the fact in no threatening spirit, but merely
to remind the Reader, that the author who tells every man
of his faults but him is really a member of the larger body;
of a body strong enough, if mustered by proclamation, to
take by storm every book-club and reading-room in the
land, scattering their swarms of grumbling and spectacled
inmates out at doors and windows. With this quiet
warning we approach the Reader, just to ask his opinion,
whether he has been always truly described by the epithets
referred to ? Is he always courteous ? invariably candid ? 0
gentle at all seasons ?
It is time that the Reader heard the truth about himself.
It is clear to us that, as books necessarily pass into hands of
every possible degree of deviation from perfect cleanliness,
some of them might open more appropriately with “ Shabby
Reader !" “ Rascally Reader!" and " Contemptible Reader!"
We know that the Reader must be in a great number of
cases an abominable knave; but nobody ever told him so
before. We know that he is, in ninety-nine instances out
of a hundred, a bit of a rogue ; but the fact has been kept
a profound secret from him.' We know, moreover, that in
the odd hundredth instance he is not quite a Simon Pure;
but authors, all his life through, have been crying him
up as perfection, sparing, if not spoiling him.
If a tolerable husband—has he not, nevertheless,
selfishly dragged over to his side the larger share of the
bed-clothes, on some very cold night ? and if an intolerable
one-has he not inhumanly praised a neighbour's wife in
the very presence of his own ? If cautious and prudent in
act—has he not obstinately retained some very uncharitable
opinions ? and if liberal in sentiment—is he not now and then
rather intolerant in conduct? But worse, has he not broken
more commandments than he ever rigidly kept ? observing
the sixth and the eighth we will suppose, but forgetting
what follows, and what is between: might not the author
sometimes have written under the worst character in his
book, “this is the Reader !"?
And how has the Reader repaid his author for the
flattery of attributing to him all or half the cardinal virtues ?
Why, generally, by assuming with amiable modesty, that
the most upright person in the story is drawn after himself ;
and settling it as an incontrovertible fact, that the scamp of
a hero is a portrait of the author. Readers have a very
grateful and good-humoured knack of fastening the vice
upon the writer, and dividing the virtues among themselves.
“There must be something bad about him, or how should
he describe the villain so well ?” These are your "cour-
teous" Readers! Your “candid” ones are those who
frankly point out every fault they can find, with a few others
which are not there. The “gentle” Reader is as commonly
met with—he who flies into a furious passion at a semi-
colon turned upside down, or a that substituted for a which.
And suppose the book, or the pamphlet, or the article, be
indeed a bad one, the Reader might be grateful for the
good intent—the desire to amuse him. But he is not; let


FOR EVERY TABLE.
the prose be ever so dull, the Reader would as soon think
of buying a second copy as of thanking the author for the
sound and invigorating slumber that has been afforded him.
Yet the Reader is neither better nor worse than other
people ; and, to prove the fact, we shall take the liberty to
introduce this many-sided personage in his habit as he
lives, exhibiting a few phases of his character in a manner
that may command, we hope, no unwilling recognition even
from himself.
mountain-cheeks, is innocent of learning's spectacles ! those
cheeks, moreover, they are not lean and sunken ! no line
betrays the care and labour of long and deep study! yet
the wisest and most erudite Reader of all has only ransacked
libraries to discover—that he is still as ignorant of what he
most desires to know as that chubby young book-spoiler !


Optimum
L
IITTITUTE
WIT
Here now is the first of Readers, and, in many respects,
no inapt representative of Readers of a larger growth.
What cares he about his author ? Arrange the letters as
he may, they still spell “martyrdom," and no word else,
to him. He soon lets you see that he thinks it very dull
work, simply because he does not understand it. That
is the way of the world, and the young Reader, tested by
worldly usages, is a promising scholar.
There is one point, however, on which he more wisely
agrees with his elders in the keenness of his taste, and
the ardour of his search for the pictures. How he grasps
and crushes the leaves ; turns over three at a time; uses
two or three of his fat fingers for a paper-cutter, and turns
the book upside down to view the engravings to the best
advantage. Ah! those eyes are undimmed by midnight
oil and black-letter! that little ridge of nose between the
But at sixteen — presto!—what a change has taken
place in the Reader! Here she is !-ah! it would be worth
while always to write, if all readers were like her! Perhaps
it is a sheet of music with which she dallies : no matter,
then it would be worth while to turn composer. Or pro-
bably it is a pretty rose-bordered billet : better still ; it
would be worth while to write to her everlastingly such
charming epistles. But, alas! she would cease to be
sixteen; and it is only now that, read what she may, she
possesses the enviable faculty of transfusing her whole soul
into the subject she reads about, and of being borne away
by it, as on a pair of paper pinions, millions of miles from
her garden, and her glass, and her piano; her bullfinch,
her milliner,— nay, even from the youth who danced with
her last night!
Say what we will, it is only at this age that we can
hope to find the Reader such as Sterne sighed for—and it
must be a she, not a he Reader—"I would travel fifty miles
on foot, to kiss the hand of that man whose generous sym-
pathy can give up the reins of his imagination into his


FOR EVERY TABLE.
CT
his journal. His, for he has one that he calls his own-
“My paper”—but, in truth, he likes every one of them ;
and although they all tell him, if a landowner, that he is
sure to die a beggar; and if a fundholder, that he is going
direct to the dogs ; and if neither, that every soul in the
country is on his road to the union workhouse :-he eats,
drinks, and is merry, just as though he had never learned
to read at all. Now this is really reading to some purpose!
over its whims and wonders with as hearty a sense of their
reality, as if he were boxed up, nailed, and corded, a mere
bale or packing-case of humanity, in Cheapside. He is a
lazy lover of books, it is true; but it is not the laziness of
Gray's sofa, and the solitary new novel : no! he cultivates
the flowers of literature among the flowers while they last;
he makes his garden his summer library, and his library
his winter garden ; and in both conditions doubles his
entertainment by dividing it : for both reader and listener
laugh twice as loud and twice as long, simply by laughing
together, and crying continually, “What fun it is—an't it?"


WW
SUR
be
WIZZ
.
The Reader a little further advanced in life is apt to be
less selfish in his reading than heretofore ; he thinks one
book big enough for two persons, and a story all the better
for being shared with a pleasant companion. Accordingly,
when he gets a capital new novel from the next circulating
library, he likes to get somebody to read it to him ; but
better still, having his lungs yet left to him, and being
not at all scant of breath, nor averse to hearing the sound
of his own cheerful voice, he liketh well to read it aloud
to a good-humoured companion, gifted with the peculiar
faculty of listening without going to sleep.
He has a little house with a little garden, it may be five
miles from St. Paul's, or a hundred; but there he is, with
his "good lady,” as he calls her, quite shut in amidst a
rustic paradise away from the world, and yet laughing
But a little further on we encounter a Reader of a
less rapturous turn of mind. She is one of those Readers
to whom a book 's a book, and that's all. You will find
her sitting on the terrace at somebody's house in the
country, or on Richmond Hill, or in St. James's Park
(when she is in town), and seldom is she to be caught without
her book in her hand, just half-open, and ready to be
looked into. She is hardly to be called a Reader—a dipper
would be the more correct appellation. When she has
been all through it, her lap-dog knows exactly as much
as she knows.


THE COMIC ALBUM
U
She will sit in the park, watch the ducks, and then read
six lines ; then look up at a lady's shawl, and read a little
bit more ; then turn her eyes towards the ducks again, and
then down upon the page, and anon at another lady's
shawl, and also at a lady's bonnet; then read a dozen
words more, and admire a dear little child and bonnet
the second ; then adjust her own ribbons, talk to her dog
confidentially, and drop her eyes again upon the book-
and so on eternally! No matter what the story is, all tales
are the same to this good even-minded creature, and she
treats them all alike! Nothing makes her weep, nothing
makes her laugh-yet she has a book under her eyes per-
petually! Her equanimity finds a resource in it-besides,
she is vain of her reputation for much reading. She says
to all her friends——“You must excuse my bringing my
book with me, for you know I'm a great reader !". And
she actually thinks she is ! Nice old lady!
leading journals on the ministerial and opposition sides,
and to run over as many of the advertisements as he can.
He has barely time to remark to the neighbour who drops
in as he goes out, that things seem to be in a bad way, and
likely to be worse,—for back he must be. But in the
evening he can spare a couple of hours to his favourite
little parlour behind the bar, where he can at leisure digest
the more briefly-detailed news of the evening paper, and
discuss it afterwards over a glass of grog-hot, with a thin
slice of lemon.
But alas ! even when he finds, which is not every
morning and evening, the very best of news, there is one
never-failing drawback to his comfort. No gentleman is
allowed to detain the paper more than ten minutes after it
is bespoke, and some gentleman is sure to bespeak it the
instant he has taken it into his hand. What makes the
mortification bitterer is, that although he invariably, with
a nice conscience, surrenders the required journal within
the time, the party claiming it always takes it with a look
that says—" You've kept it half an hour !"


Here is a Reader quite as frequently met with—the
well-known, veritable, ubiquitous reader of the journals !
the quiet, comfortable jog-trot tradesman, who (save and
except his ledger and bible—not always the same thing,
let wicked satirists say what they will !) never sees a book
at all, but constantly reads the papers, and the papers only!
You will find him at stated hours (he having always just
that minute stepped out of his shop) at the Queen's Arms,
or the Lord Wellington, or the Nelson's Head, where he
remains just so long as it may take him to skim the two
We ascend now to the silent study, and encounter the
venerable professor, who has spent some three-score years



ENER
19
INNEN
L
BIL
TILE LITIDEFE WÆR
ILLUSTRATED BY A NATIVE ARTIST.
Every one's heard of the Chinese nation,
The people of which declare,
That several years before the Creation
Their ancestors were settled there !
The Deluge, they maintain,
Is, to them, a thing of modern date,
Which, in their chronology, they rate
Like a recent shower of rain !
They prove, with the greatest ease,
That Noah and his sons were all Chinese,
While as to the Ark, they say,
The reason it never was sunk
Is because, 'tis as clear as the sun at noon-day,
The Ark was a Chinese Junk.
More ancient than the first created man ;
And if ever the Chinese really were
A people so great as themselves aver,
It must have been before the world began !
For they might have ranked as the greatest of men
Ere others were made — but only then !
But, whether or no,
They were settled ten thousand years ago,
Can matter but little, for all will allow,
They are regularly settled now !
One morning, the Emperor Tao-Kwany
The bell of his bed-room loudly rang;
He'd been indulging in opium smoke,
Which had caused bad dreams,
And so, it seems,
In a towering rage, the Celestial woke.
There's only one fault in their pedigree,
Which is that they make it appear to be


THE COMIC ALBUM
The moment the Emperor's bell had rung,
The attendants into his chamber hied,
There were Hi-ski-hi, No-go, Tung-lung,
Long-chin, Tay-tin, and a lot beside,
Who, with many more,
Fell flat on the floor,
When they entered the door
Of the room where the moon's own son,
When the toils of the day are o 'er,
And his daily course of dignity's run,
Condescends to sleep, and perchance, to snore.
Then Tao-Kwang started up in his bed,
And dashing his night-cap off his head,
With a flashing eye, and a countenance pale,
With a sorrowful look,
His head he shook,
And shaking his head he wagged his tail.

Then thus, with a beautiful nasal twang,
Which through the chamber loudly rang,
The super-celestial Tao-Kwang,
His humble attendants began to harangue :-
“I've had a horrid dream!”
(The courtiers gave a sympathetic scream :)
“You know those vile barbarians come,
And, in disguise,
They tempt the children of the skies,
With deadly 0-PI-UM.
The thing has got beyond a joke,
My subjects all,
Both great and small,
Do nothing else but smoke.
This opium sends them all to sleep,
And even my
Celestial eye
Wide open cannot keep!
Last night, after a hearty meal of tripe,
Stewed well in rice,
Which makes it nice,
The father of his people smoked a pipe.
But oh! I'll cut five hundred heads in twain,
If I am tempted, by high or low,
Or even whether I'm tempted or no,
I'll do it — if I ever smoke again ;
For such a splitting headache I've got,
That if I've such another fit,
To keep mine company, more heads shall split,
Whether they fancy it or not.
That opium brought across my brain,
Such visions as I dare not see again.


FOR EVERY TABLE.

I thought there fell, beneath my view,
Some of my loving subjects cut in two ;
Just in the way, my well-beloved Long-poo,
I thought, ten days ago, of serving you."
(Long-poo, at this allusion fell ;
Lifeless he seemed upon the floor to drop,
For he, alas! remembered well,
The Emperor's yet unexecuted chop.
Long-poo was pitched into the ante-room,
And thus the father of his people did resume :)
“I thought I saw the sun that warms my life,
I mean La-zi, my six-and-twentieth wife,
Walking with footsteps slow and calm,
Surprising all beholders,
Without a head upon her shoulders :
For, ah! she carried it beneath her arm.


THE COMIC ALBUM

And, by-the-bye,”
(He added with a twinkle of his eye),
“ Perhaps if La-zi should ungrateful seem,
I yet may make her realise my dream ;
But oh! this opium caused such strange illusion,
My brain was all confusion.
Mandarins pierced full of holes,
Elephants solemnly playing at bowls.



4
And much besides I cannot say,
Seemed to arise
Before my eyes,
Until I awoke and found it day."
vec


FOR EVERY TABLE.
The Emperor blew his celestial nose,
Then solemnly swore
By the dragon's fifth claw,
That the English should henceforth be treated as foes.
The Emperor's toilet was now to be done,
It's a job rather tough,-
And takes time enough,
To dress and get ready the moon's eldest son.

លីលា
First comes a slave,
The imperial beard to shave !
Then a mandarin,
Who brings a towel clean,
Which he hands to another of class Ta-jin,
Who washes and wipes the celestial chin!
AL
VIII
20000
Then an officer of the household comes,
Who upon the very tip
Of the Emperor's upper lip,
The long moustachios cleverly gums.
The tail which is worn in bed
Is fastened on to the hair of the head;
But the other two
Are put on every morning with glue.
This, and a great deal more,
Must be done before,—
The light of the world is trim ’d and made fit,
His sleeping room to quit.
-
-
-
A thousand cannons fired about Pekin,
Proclaim the imperial breakfast will begin ;
A salvo from the palace gun,
Proclaims the imperial breakfast done;
The Emperor calls for his cane so taper,
And forth he sallies,
From the gates of the palace,
Reading the morning paper.
Then Tao-Kwang he roamed about,
Until from the city a long way out,
For on the paper he was bent,
(It was a barbarian daily sheet
And the Emperor found it such a treat),
That he did n't consider where he went.


THE COMIC ALBUM
“But as there is none within call to bring
At a moment's notice the fatal string,
I'll shew you my goodness as well as my power.
Your mind I'll relieve,
By a full reprieve
For a quarter of an hour,
On this condition - That you will make
In their shoes the vile barbarians shake."
Hilton
HINN
So the merchant agreed, and oh, such a din
Was raised from Canton to Pekin!
They sent for the valiant Commissioner Lin,
With full instructions the war to begin.
The troops were supplied with plenty of tin,
A stock of gunpowder (tea) was laid in ;
The muskets were made as clean as a pin,
To soil them for nothing seemed quite a sin ;
Then how his Highness began to vapour,
Ne'er was commander so brave upon-paper,
1000.
MUNDE
At length on a merchant he chanced to come
Who his living made
By a roaring trade
In this very identical o-pi-um.
The Emperor's heart began to beat
Beneath the embroidered dragon's feet,
Which he wears on his vest
Just over his chest,
To show that his heart is as fierce and stout
As a dragon's—and so it is no doubt.
But at length the navy in pasteboard ships,
About the neighbourhood of Canton,
In order to see how things went on,
Began to take some cautious trips,
And some of them having ventured too far,
Got a sight of an awful British tar,
Which made them run
Like fun;
Reports were spread in every quarter,
That the barbarians, bent on slaughter,
Had made up their minds and their mouths to devour
Every Chinese that came in their power.
But this intelligence terrific,
To make it better understood,
Was quickly drawn, and cut on wood
Into an awful hieroglyphic.
“Detestable dog!” he loudly exclaimed,
Then with his bamboo,
For a minute or two,
Some blows at the merchant the Emperor aimed,
“You ought to hang!"
Exclaimed Tao-Kwang,


TII COVIC ALBUMI

To prove what China intended to do
With the rude barbarian English foe,
The war was got up, and presented to view
In every Chinese puppet show.
And it ended, of course,
By an allegorical illustration
Of the downfal of the English nation
From a Chinese Punch's superior force.


But while the authorities fretted and fumed,
The people still to smoke presumed ;
And still the "outer barbarians” made
A capital thing of the opium trade.
LLLLL
With a force so small it was scarce worth counting
(To a very few thousands only amounting),
And having of junks not more than forty,


FOR EVERY TABLE.
The valiant Admiral Kwang,
Upon consideration, thought he
Might venture hostilities slap-bang ;
And cheers through the Chinese squadron rang,
When English vessels two
Came right in view
Of the gallant Chinese band,
Amounting in all
To an army small
Of but three thousand soldiers, sea and land.
The Chinese opened a vigorous fire,
But deuce a bit
Could they any one hit,
Or fear in the foe inspire.
With two peacock's eyes
Placed side by side together
(Though talking of plumage, he'd shewn no right
To any feather but the white).
The English, being quite content
For an amicable settlement,
An Indian envoy sent,
Who bowed and smiled wherever he went;

At length, almost in fun,
The English let off a single gun.
At the first bang,
Down on the deck went Admiral Kwang,
For mercy his forces lustily sang,
While some of them overboard sprang.
The Admiral then went home like a shot
To ruminate on the affair ; and he thought it,
On the whole, decidedly better not
Just as it happened to report it.
For the Emperor 's a sort of man
Who, whether they can't or whether they can,
Expects the troops who receive his pay,
On all occasions to win the day;
And so he was told,
In language glorious,
That his admiral bold
Had been victorious.
By way of a prize
For his thundering lies,
He received a feather
So the Chinese guards took him in state
To the city of Canton's gate,
And shewed him politely in
To Commissioner Lin;
And the English merchants remonstrance made
Against interrupting the opium trade.


THE COMIC ALBUM

The finny tribe that did partake of it
Could not imagine what to make of it.
Salmon and cod
Became in their manner exceedingly odd ;
Flat-fish and plaice
Floundered about in the awkwardest case;
Eels and soles
Tumbled and reeled about in shoals ;
Whales and sharks
Frightened old Neptune himself with their larks.
Such a drunken set
Of fishes ne'er was heard of yet :
'T is a pity they were n't within the reach
Of the wholesome regulation
That would have fined them five shillings each
For their intoxication.
But after a deal of botheration,
And bandying to and fro
Of "yes" and " no,"
Upon the part of either nation,
The opium was taken in a junk
To be in the sea
Sunk.
The fishes, it is said,
With opium were made
Dead
Drunk.
But, quitting the sea, let's understand
How matters were going on upon land.
The British, no longer permitted to stay,
From Canton most rudely were hurried away.
UDENTS
010


FOR EVERY TABLE.

John Bull, unaccustomed an insult to bear,
Made no more ado
But for work buckled to,
And for business in earnest began to prepare.
His very appearance
Effected a clearance,
And swept from the seas
A lot of Chinese.
SA

22
But the Emperor issued a chop,
Intended the panic to stop.
It candidly said,
In order with courage to fill them,
If they dared to evince any dread,
And were not in battle shot dead,
By law he would afterwards kill them.
So what were the soldiers to do?
Must they go into battle when bid?
They'd be shot if they did n't, 't is true,
But then they'd be shot if they did !
It was enough their little sense to scatter ;
They scarcely knew
The light in which 't were best to view
The matter;
At length, of two
Frightful alternatives, they chose the latter.
The fleet of junks was quickly moored
In battle's proud array,
And arrows at the foe were poured
Throughout the live-long day.
Harmless each weapon seemed to fall
(So badly the Celestials got on),
Their darts had no effect at all,
But stuck like pins into a ball
Of cotton!


THE COMIC ALBUM
Of all whose appearance might lead one to doubt them
When saying they had n't got opium about them.
On land their cannon then they tried,
And scarce had got one loaded-
The match had hardly been applied
Before the gun exploded.
And two artillery captains died
From being struck, and so did
The gunner at the touch-hole's side,
Who give the fatal blow did.

16
"
A
Dumina-
LA
The Emperor now summoned his council again,
And one to the other his views did explain :
One of his generals he slew,
Or rather, had him cut in two,
His head removing from his shoulders
Before the terrified beholders :
The Emperor thought this course the best,
Just to encourage all the rest.
And the celestial edict said,
To render it a graver matter,
The culprit for his own doomed head
Should be condemned to hold the platter.
For those who would not use their brains,
While carrying such things about them,
The Emperor thought, by taking pains,
Might get on just as well without them.
WAN
.
And meanwhile that the opium-trade might be ended,
A vigilant custom-house search recommended
DO


FOR EVERY TABLE.

So from every province of China they brought
Horrid devices of every sort,
Like nothing that ever was seen alive ;
Dragons with three claws, and dragons with five ;
And away they started the foe to meet,
Expecting the British at once would retreat,
And fly away
From such a display
SUL
KER
At length the troops celestial agreed
To make one last great effort to succeed.
They marshalled all their forces,
And brought against John Bull,
In one long, strong, and simultaneous pull,
The whole of their resources.
To frighten British soldiers back
Was all that they were bent upon,
And very curious was the tack
Which now at last they went upon.
A painted dragon with extended claw,
They knew to be a sight
Themselves at once to overawe,
And fill their souls with fright.
They therefore thought it might,
When offered to the view
Of the barbarians in the fight,
Strike them with terror too!
Of things one do n't meet with every day,
Except in processions, perchance, at the play.
Talk of King Arthur, at Drury Lane,
With its pasteboard troopers,
And its crowd of supers,
Running out and running in again.
Talk of the properties, banners, and so on ;
Talk of the choristers hired to go on ;
Talk of the horrible creatures that stand
At the back of the stage, with torches in hand,
Producing effects remarkably fine,
With three or four pen'orths of spirits of wine !
You may talk of all this as much as you please,
It was much better done by the clever Chinese.


HIPPODROLLERY.
Y ROM the era of the papyrus and the reed
down to the days of “ruby pens," and super-
scented - satin - gilt- hotpressed-Bath post, it
La has been the custom (although 't would be
far more honoured in the breach than the observance) for
authors to commence with an apologetical preface.
Reader, we despise such a paltry method of insinuating
ourselves into your good graces; and frankly confess we
are about to place our foot in the stirrup, and get upon
“that noble animal, the Horse," a subject we never before
straddled in our lives! Ere we mount, however, we
confess that in our younger days we once vaulted upon a
rocking-horse, and were ignominiously thrown !—a suf-
ficient reason for lowering our equestrian ambition ; for
refusing the next day, at school, to construe ride si sapis ;
and for our declining to join in the game of "jump my
little nag-tail."
Since then, fate has cast our destiny, and moulding us
into a printer's devil, we have become acquainted with
rian, for he foisted upon the credulity of mankind me-
moirs of lions and tigers that he knew nothing about until
they were stuffed with straw-has thus written of the
horse :-" The noblest conquest ever made by man over
the brute creation, is the reduction of this spirited and
courageous animal, which shares with him the fatigues of
war and the glory of victory. Equally intrepid as his
master, the horse sees the danger, and encounters death
with bravery; inspired at the clash of arms, he loves war,
and pursues the enemy with ardour. He feels pleasure
also in the chase, and in tournaments; in the course he is
all fire; but equally tractable as courageous, he does not
give way to his impetuosity, and knows how to check his
natural and fiery temper.”
This is all very flowery and fine, but evinces anything
but a profound knowledge of the subject, and resembles
the original about as much as the basket-horses of a clown
in the pantomime. Unfortunately, Buffon was a naturalist
of chamber-practice, well acquainted with towel and
clothes’-horses, but who wrote in full-dress, and would no
more have risked soiling his lace-ruffles in a stable, than
your sedentary writers of travels would risk their precious
persons in Kamskatcha or Timbuctoo.
In disputing the horse doctrines of Buffon, we candidly
admit' the culpability of many others, in palming their
notions of veterinary morality upon the public. Painters,
poets, and novelists have ascribed to him the most exquisite
virtues and sentiments, whilst those admirable judges of
horseflesh, the restaurateurs of Paris, have assigned to his
physical capabilities the rare quality of producing most
excellent and tender beef-steaks. Our motive, then, for
pointing out and correcting these errors, arises from a
natural fear that they may exert a lamentable influence not
only upon the judgment, but also on the limbs, of mankind.
Suppose, for instance, an inexperienced amateur, con-
fiding in the assurance of the lace-ruffled professor, that the
horse “not only submits to the arm which guides him, but
seems to consult the wishes of the rider, and presses on or
stops at his pleasure.” Suppose our amateur confidently
mounting the saddle, persuaded upon the faith of all this,
that he has not the least occasion to distrust the quadruped,
naturally so good, so docile, and so obliging, you will see

riders. Although not au fait at a steeple-chase, we know
much of banks and horses ; and are, therefore, rather
unlike those M.P.s who rise to speak on matters of which
they are generally ignorant, or those biographers who
write whole lives of persons they never saw.
Buffon, the great natural (or rather unnatural) histo-


THE COMIC ALBUM
him fall not only from the height of his illusions, but, what
is still more annoying, from the height of his Rosinante.
Next to the “noble animal's " docility, we have had
volumes upon his wonderful courage. But who does not
perceive the absurdity of assigning intrepid courage and
warlike ardour to the most fearful, and, perhaps, the most
cowardly of animals,—who trembles at the slightest noise, —
and who is startled and convulsed at the sight of the most
inoffensive objects. How erroneous are the assertions of
those writers who have stated that he delights in the
thunder of cannon and musketry—that he leaps light-
hearted into the dangers of war, hungering after sabres,
and thirsting for a sparkling draught of bayonets. It is
impossible to believe an animal gifted with the tempera-
ment of a hero, that is frightened at a shuttlecock; and
the difficulty of accustoming our cavalry horses to stand
the report of firearms, is a tolerable proof that warlike
courage is far from one of their natural tastes.
But we are neither disposed to quarrel with the horse
nor to under-rate his merits: we know through him the
Greeks won Troy—that the merits of Bucephalus caused
Alexander to name a city after him—that Richard would
have given his “ kingdom for a horse"—that Lady Godiva,
seated in puris naturalibus upon his back, saved the "goode
citie of Coventrie," and that eventually its inhabitants be.
came ribbon-makers, instead of being cut into ribbons by
her ruthless lord. Then there was Hippograph, with many
other Hippos, mostly, however, hypo-thetical, —Chiron,
who was only half-bred—the weeping horses of Achilles-
the spouting horses of Neptune, and those "out-and-
outers" of Phæton's, which even Ducrow, or the best whip
on the road, would have been puzzled to manage.
Instead of being simply allowed his natural attributes,
the horse for ages has been an ill-used animal, employed in
conveying the absurd notions of others. Poets are licensed
to commit such absurdities, for no one believes them to write
of any other horse but their own fabulous Pegasus. But
how often has he been painted in the most tender atti-
tudes, weeping like any christian over the body of a dead
trumpeter, or wounded hussar. Really, the quantity of
tears a horse's eye will hold is a point worthy the attention
of naturalists. We suspect his real attachment to his
master is about parallel to the minister's attachment to
his place—the secret of the one lies in the treasury, and of
the other in the manger.
We remember a circumstance which bears somewhat
on this point.-A grand equestrian spectacle was produced
at one of the minor temples of the drama, in which the
most "touching incident” arose out of the strong attach-
ment evinced by the leading horse towards the leading
actor. The latter, wounded in battle, is brought to his
tent, whither he is followed by his faithful steed, to whom
he desires his attendants to present a bowl of corn. The
horse, deeply concerned for his wounded master (as the
author of the piece would have it supposed), turns his
head melancholically away from the proferred food. The
spectators applaud his sensibility, believing it natural, but
what was the fact ?—Why the corn was mixed with clout-
nails, and horses suffer from indigestion as well as men!
Amongst the accomplishments of the horse, dancing,
and a natural ear for music have often been spoken of.
Aided by the spur, we have seen him dance to music, of
which we believe him to be so far a connoisseur as to see no
difference between “Tu vedrai” and “Nix my Dolly, pals,”
or “ Jolly Nose." But the time is not distant, when
horses will attend the geometrical section of the meetings
of the British Association, since in mathematics they may
really be said to outstrip man, for how often have they
accomplished that difficult problem, the measuring of the
circumference of the circle.
Talking of the circle brings us to the ring of the
riding-school, where, judging from the laborious exertions
of most tyros in equestrian science, we are inclined to
believe it is not half so difficult to qualify one's self for a
prime-minister as for a post-boy. Look, reader, at our
friend, whose body oscillates backwards and forwards like a
pendulum: grasping convulsively the mane or the pommel,
and rising up at each step like a frog under the action of a


THE COMIC ALBUM
a whip and spurs, and gets "an oss” at ten shillings
per diem. But though the animal be hired, it must
not be forgotten his will is his own. You may urge
him forwards, but possibly he prefers a lateral course,
which terminates in a posterior visit into the shop front
of some milliner, forming an addition to her stock of
nonveautés. You will not think, like Hannibal, it was


Soine are affected with cramp, and striking out the suffer-
ing limbs enable the cavalier to decide whether wood-
pavement presents any advantages over stone in point of
gravitation or concussion.
Horses have their antipathies as well as men, and
amongst their most decided dislikes are the cutting of the
whip and the digging of the spur. Some are much
annoyed by the barking of dogs; but any of these aversions
frequently causes them to start off at full gallop, and
double the intentions of the rider in point of distance.
The sound of the organ, or the beating of the drum, which
frightens some of the hired race, is a source of pleasure and
amusement to others: hence it sometimes happens, he who
is mounted upon an old stager from some Olympic circle,
that delights in the mazy waltz or sprightly gallop, runs the
chance of breaking his neck upon the sliding scale, if he be
not sufficiently adroit to keep his seat.
scarcely “possible to force a passage," for the clattering
smash of the plate glass convinces you of the contrary.
If the entry be but little flattering, the exit, is exces-
sively humiliating ; for the milliners cry out, a mob
soon assembles, and sometimes a policeman is to be
found. Then, after much pulling in front and pushing
behind, the perverse animal is withdrawn from the retreat
he had selected ; and the horseman, who calculated upon
paying a dozen shillings, including ostler and turnpikes,
for his day's diversion, finds himself let in to the tune of
321. 11s. 2d., for broken glass, damaged caps and bonnets,
without reckoning the douceur with which he must soften
the woes of the affrighted damsels. If (query) he carries
so much money in his pocket (we never do) he pays,
of course ; and having once read of a coach-and-four being
driven round some shop, he is puzzled that, in these
New Tariff days, a ride into a “Magazin de modes et
nouveautés," should be so deuced expensive. If he does n't
happen to carry the ready with him, prompted by L 32, the
scene changes to the station-house.
At every watering-place may be met, about the outskirts
of the town, some dozen lean, lank, crippled, and spavined
animals, whose four legs and a tail constitute the pretext
for their being offered as horses to the visitors. Whether

The expense of indulging in equestrian pleasures does
not seem very great, provided the rider is possessed of



FOR EVERY TABLE.
the sea air or these sea horses inspire an equestrian taste we cannot tell, but that a mania exists for the amusement
is evident by the condition of the poor brutes from whose flesh and blood it is derived, who run life's gauntlet through
the perpetual beating and kicking of their riders.
command over his steed, he will find that, even in a canter,
But what a different cavalcade from the above one
meets in the ring of Hyde Park; not that it is in any way
deficient in eccentricities, for even there one encounters
cavaliers who do not sit their horses with the ease and
WA
AVON
there is but one step from the sublime to the ridiculous ;
ON
SAN
grace of a Chiffney. Judging by the pace, and the liveli-
ness of their conversation, we should say the gentleman
who now passes has considerably advanced in the good
graces of the lady whom he escorts. Equestrian courtship,
however, is perhaps the most difficult of all sieges to sus-
tain, for if the amorous cavalier has not the most perfect


THE COMIC ALBUM
further, should another suitor aspire to the hand of the
fair Diana, he may calculate his chance by reflecting that
the man once laughed at is no longer a dangerous rival.
The misfortunes that overtake the incipient horseman are
most numerous. Not the least among the category, is that
of being unable to dismount, when your goddess inadver-
ing a graceful Amazon, should invariably take the pre-
caution of seeing the girth "well up into the right hole,"
lest their exertion bring the saddle so far posterior as to
elicit from the spectators the exclamation, “There goes a
tailor, riding like Billy Button to Brentford !".


The varieties of horse-riders are almost numberless, and
yet there is but one class of horse-dealers, whose traffic,
nevertheless, invariably extends to selling their customers.
tently drops her handkerchief, or is accidentally deprived
Reader, if, unlike ourself, you ever have stridden the back
of her coiffeure by the "wanton winde.”
of a Houhynhym, shun these knowing Yahoos as you would
Those who prefer the pleasures of the chace to escort. I a pestilence.


ON VOICE, GESTURE, AND ATTITUDE.
Every one has two voices, the voice natural and the voice artificial.
The natural voice is used in domestic matters, in ordinary business, and in friendly conversation.
The artificial voice, which may properly be termed the Sunday voice, is set apart for particular
occasions, as visits of ceremony, first interviews, confessions of love, and proposals of marriage : it is,
in short, the voice in full dress.

With the lords of the creation this full-dress voice has generally a deeper and more sonorous
tone than the voice natural; whilst, on the contrary, among the fair sex, its notes are mincing and
bland.
Take any person in the wide world by the hand, who supposes himself or herself exempt from
this caprice-introduce either into a society with which they were previously unacquainted, and the
moment the threshold is crossed, you will find 't is the Sunday voice which salutes the mistress of
the house.
At festive meetings, where folks sport their best coats and manners, tell their best jokes, and say
their best sayings, the gentleman selected by the company “to do justice to the merits” of the host


THE COMIC ALBUM
causes us to gape and yawn ; he that splutters while talking, or speaks close under one's nose,
inspires us with disgust; he that bawls, overwhelms us more by the power of his voice than the
force of his arguments ; he who jumps from one subject to another, forces us to laugh, or else excites our
anger; he that constantly laughs at whatever he describes, may amuse us for the moment, but becomes
tiresome in the end; he who never laughs, makes us fearful and cautious ;—and, finally, he that con-
tinually loses the thread of his discourse, and often repeats, “Well, you know,” “ As I was saying,"
“ Let me see-whereabouts was I ?” makes us heartily wish the fellow at Old Nick.
Speaking is an art which many clever men do not naturally possess, but which some fools have
instinctively: this often makes us revoke, at a second interview, the judgment we had pronounced at
the first.
The speaker who accompanies his discourse with varied and natural gestures, is frequently of a.
ready and sparkling wit; whilst he that holds forth, with a countenance totally void of expression,
is even more frequently of a dull, heavy turn of mind.
There is a certain species of social simpleton, to whom no conventional appellation, that we are
aware of, has ever been assigned, but who is full of extravagant gesticulation. He is at once a vain,
presumptuous, empty, and arrogant babbler, who, not satisfied with the natural expression of his
countenance, opens and shuts his eyes, grins widely and vacantly, and assumes a melancholy or laughing
air, as he presumes the subject of his discourse requires. He further assists the expression of his
physiognomy by movements of his head, his body, his arms, and his legs. He leans first upon one
haunch, then upon the other; then curves his body from one side to the other; then brings it straight
again :-in short, gives way to an infinity of postures, which he imagines to be necessary and graceful,
but which really are contortions and grimaces.

Amongst the gestures and attitudes, the most annoying are those of the ignoramus, who, having
stopped you in the street, unbuttons and buttons up your waistcoat, plays with your watch-guard,
-65
-tale


FOR EVERY TABLE.
and passes his fingers through the button-holes of your coat; then shakes it to and fro; or draws
you closer to him, to impress upon you the importance of the twaddle he is retailing. If you
endeavour to get rid of him by proceeding onwards he will not quit his hold, but add to the
annoyance by stopping every three steps, and causing you to do the same to preserve your coat

from his injurious fangs. Another time, he will mark the emphasis and pauses of his oration, by
continual taps upon your arm, holding your hand enclosed within his all the while, and rendering
escape next to impossible.
The attitude of the coxcomb is as offensive as it is ridiculous. With one hand tucked in his
waistcoat, and tapping his boots with his can with his head thrown proudly back, or feignedly leant
forwards, as though he were short-sighted, he ogles and peers at you, while speaking or listening to you,
in a manner that seems to say—“How very little you are! so very little compared to me! 't is quite a
trouble to look at you !"
The man who is insincere, stammers,—weighs and examines his phrases before he risks uttering them,
and never looks you firmly and fully in the face.
Oso-


A Very Black Romance
(SLIGHTLY TINGED WITH BLUE),
By Miss Indiana Inkle.
The reader, sup-
posing him to be a
member of the Tra- I
vellers' Club, or, what
is still more probable, to have journeyed from
LONDON TO SCHLANGENBAD
cannot have failed to remark, that the former
is wonderfully endowed with chimney-pots, and
the latter with the pic-
turesque. In this sin-
gular country exist real, bona fide trees, and
there are met wandering brooks, melancholy and
pensive in their natures, doubtless from having
been crossed—by bridges ! The eye of the reader,
supposing him to have but one, and that it tra-
velled in the direction indicated by the post above, at the
precise moment of which we write-otherwise we beg he
will direct it to the following drawing—could not have
helped remarking the existence of a noble addition to the
landscape-a large white bull; which, by the way, seems to
have strayed there most à propos, enabling our artist to fill
up his foreground after nature, and ourselves to introduce
to the reader one of the chief characters of this sable tale
—the innocent cause of endless woe.
| Heigh ho!* never was a bull more innocent than he.
No, not even the holy Pope's. He was pure in heart as
the natural whiteness of his skin—but not white-livered
withal. His countenance (which we must not fail to add,
although the artist has turned it from us)— his noble
countenance beamed with joy, whilst a smile you would
have been puzzled to decide as belonging to the ironical
or the pitiful (supposing them not to be synonymous)
played around his aristocratically turned mouth, giving
increased animation to his features, and perhaps slightly
expressing the zest with which he placidly grazed on the
fresh herb. Nothing could equal the mental quietude,
the repose of soul, which this unsophisticated brute enjoyed.
To him, science and the self-lighting sealing-wax, luxury
and the new Poor Law, Photography and India-rubber
pavement, Mr. Dickens's “ Notes" and the American
currency, the exhibitions of the Royal Academy and Prize
Cattle, the meetings of the British Association and Female
Chartists, were each and all unknown. Neither the new
Income Tax nor the new Tariff affected him. He was
not surprised at Sir Robert Peel's promises, and, like
Sir Robert, never dreamt of his fulfilling them. In short,
nothing disturbed, nothing astonished him. Our bull was
a complete child of nature (like John Bull perhaps, a little
overgrown). Had you inquired of him the way to any
town, his reply would simply have consisted of one inge-
nuous smile, proving at least he was not the dupe of your
facetiousness.

• Query, lo.
PRINTEw's Deviu.


FOR EVERY TABLE.
being a Whig, and out of place? Whether he wore a
tail as a political allusion cannot be positively stated, but
it is more than probable to have
been--because our artist gave
him one. There is a point we
had nearly forgotten to state-
he was the husband of Constance.
Not that the fact is important,
considering the indifference with
which he had bestowed his name
and title, and the indifference
with which she, on the other hand,
had received them. In the eyes
of Constance he was necessarily
a monster—many husbands are !
Poor injured creature! where is
the woman that does not sympa-
thize with her?
Attached to the carriage, and the family of De Cringey,
was a third person. Does the reader inquire who, and
where? We reply at once, the valet Nicholas, in the
rumble! Yes, Nicholas—the aspiring Nicholas ! whose
only thought was, that destiny had unjustly frowned upon
him—was ignominiously perched in
the rumble. What was he like ?-
We'll describe him. His counte-
nance was not wanting in a certain
irregular style of beauty; his nose,
though snub, was twitched with an
air of nobility; his complexion was
of a pale, bilious cast; his eyes,
colourless; his forehead-gracious
powers ! what a forehead he had —
and there we 'll stop, and take up his
hands, which were remarkable for
their distinction, — they were red,
very red, but then they were equally
large. Could any woman gaze on
him with indifference? Such was
the interrogation stereotyped on
his bump of curiosity. Nicholas,
though a peasant born, was too
proud to cultivate the clay from whence he sprung, there-
fore had preferred blacking the boots and shoes of the
noble De Cringeys.
But, alas! when Constance saw the noble peasant
toiling at the brush her heart yearned towards him, and
she gave way to a despondency that would have wrung
pity even from one-aye, from any one of her Majesty's
tax-collectors. In her mental anguish she writhed like
a wounded boa-constrictor, and her eyes shed torrents
of tears that would have shamed the new fountain in
St. James's Park for limpidity
of flow. As for Nicholas—
who could not help perceiving
the contortions to which his
mistress subjected herself—in
the moments of mixed delight
and shame, he cast the dark
lashes of his colourless eyes
to the ground, and his coun-
tenance wore a mingled aspect
of angelic resignation and
ferocious despair.
A valet! He destined to
be a miserable valet ! He
doomed to accept lodging,
food, and raiment, from one
who further added to the in-
famy of the matter by com-
pelling him to accept thirty pounds per annum, and paid
him in light sovereigns !—'t was too bad! He could gnaw
his manly fists with des-
pair ; throw himself out
of window; cut from his
lord and master and
never come again. Such
often had been his re-
flections ; nevertheless
he had possessed suf-
ficient command over
himself to remain.
But, alas ! why did the noble De Cringey travel to
Schlangenbad ? Why did he, by this journey, tempt the
destiny of the ill-used Nicholas ? 'T was at the very mo-
ment that Constance, leaning out of the carriage-window,
contemplated the placid dignity of the bull, that the sight
of the white shoulders of his mistress caused an eruption
of the Etna which so long had boiled within his bosom.
He kissed-yes, he, the valet Nicholas !—kissed the fair
shoulder which the beauteous Constance had exposed to
the gaze of her golden slave. Once having passed the 6



TRIALI
s
-200


THE COMIC ALBUM
wink at the affair, like a man of the world, he seized the
delicate digits of Constance between his bony fists, and
squeezed them with a vice-like force, forgetting she was
a peeress, but, what pained her still more, that she wore
diamonds, which not only cut diamonds but fingers.
Dreadful domestic drama! But 't is not all. No! the
vengeance of De Cringey is not yet satisfied. His hands
erewhile performed the office of nutcrackers to the filberts

NY

Rubicon of his destiny, no bounds could restrain his
impetuousness ; from the shoulder he passed to the head.
Long had he admired the fair tresses of his soul's idol ;
long had he coveted one to wear in his breast, a gage
d'amour. With sudden frenzy he seized the whole, and
strove to effect a new "rape of the lock” by severing it with
his teeth!
of the delicate Constance, but now they are transformed
into pincers. He watches the opportunity, and in the
twinkling of an eye his nails have drawn out the bolt
attaching the rumble to the body of the carriage.
The seat of the unfortunate Nicholas being no longer
suspended, both roll headlong to the bottom of a precipice,
and find their level just four thousand and one feet below
that of the white bull !

The husband—the ignoble De Cringey, the monster,
the aristocrat-perceiving the disorderly conduct of his
wife and her tresses, what did he? Why, instead of feigning
to sleep, or even partially closing his eyes, so as just to
Sen


FOR EVERY TABLE.
At the sight of this horrible spectacle the affrighted
horses started back into a yawning cave, tenanted by black
serpents and green toads. Three years have elapsed, but
the travellers have not made another step towards Schlan-
genbad.
heirs of De Cringey, who, missing the badge of servitude,
which formed the only distinction between the two parties,
naturally concluded they paid the last tribute to the
dislocated tibiæ of their respected uncle. The undertaker
and his companions, as is their usual wont, certainly did
justice to the occasion.


sy
Anu
vor 2001
CAU
WI
Of the different characters who have played a part in
this dark, melancholy tale, there exists to-day but the white
bull; who, terrified at the result, has turned black-
“ His hair grew (not) white
In a single night,
As men's have grown from sudden fears."
Melancholy effect of jealousy combined with precipice !
Who could have believed that the noble De Cringeys would
thus obscurely fulfil their destiny in a cave primitively
assigned by nature as the abiding place of simple toads ?—
horrible! But what is still more horrible, who could have
believed that the postillion, the ingenuous postillion-against
whom and of whom we have never spoken a word—the
honest postillion, who was innocent of the whole affair from
beginning to end—who was even innocent of bilking the
“pikes”- could any one have believed that he, the said
postillion, likewise would become a victim? Nevertheless,
it proves most satisfactorily (although of little satisfaction to
him), that there is no rule without an exception, and that
the innocent suffer with as well as for the guilty.
Unhappy victim ! to think that he had sung “It was all
round his hat” only two minutes before—talk of warnings !
To return to Nicholas, whom we left at some distance;
he is more tranquil and composed than ever. Found
by some peasants at the bottom of the precipice from whence
his noble master had cast him, they collected, with the
most rigid care, his remains ; such as his coat and inex-
pressibles, hat, gold-band, and boots. He, personally, was
buried with all the honours not due to his rank by the

Reader! in your peregrinations, should you ever visit
this spot, and, meeting the buil, should curiosity prompt
you to inquire of him further particulars of this dark tale,
be not surprised if he mysteriously preserves a silence, the
most tacit, the most profound !!!
Ce


THE COMIC ALBUM


19 -
TE
SO
M
PUT
NA
To ascertain the exact effect of blows you would inflict at single
stick, it is highly necessary first of all to receive them.
THE GENT WITH Moustachios.—“My wife, sir, whom you
honoured with an appointment, is indisposed. I have come to offer
you an apology."


Wow
A
SIMILA
It wants five minutes to the hour of an excellent dinner, or an
appointment you would not break for the world-you anxiously await
the indispensable new coat, which the tailor brings at the last moment.
Alas! it is too tight !-your arms will neither be forced nor coaxed
into it, and the clock strikes the fatal hour !—Pleasant, ain't it?
It is a cold winter's morning, and you are desired to wait instan-
ter upon a customer-a very particular customer—and therefore you
must shave. There is no hot water ready-you have mislaid your
shaving brush-you can only place the looking-glass in a false light,
and, to crown all, you have but one miserable razor, which does the
chiropedic duties of the family.—Pleasant again-very!


RECOLLECTIONS OF AN OPERA-GLASS.
UR whole life has been one of observation. , emancipation had approached ! The opera had been the
If we have not devoted our energies to one theme of our dingy manufacturers, but what the opera
"holding the mirror up to nature,” we may was, we as much knew then, as we do now the private or
boast that our possessors have held their | political predilections of Commissioner Lin.
glass up to the highest pitch of art. As it is customary for The first object we ever saw, was the grimy face of a
those who indulge in autobiography to give their readers small apprentice, who was ordered to retire to the far end
some account of themselves, we shall follow their example. of the workshop, that his master might gauge our powers ;
Be it known, then, we are, in every sense of the word, the detection of a fly on the extreme tip of the young
"an opera glass." We are no exaggerated telescopic com gentleman's nose, threw him (our maker) into extacies
bination ; no double - barrelled - swivel - working - manual of delight, and we were pronounced perfect. We were
labour-to-carry-almost-as- large - as - life-siamese-modelled nervous about the dirty boy and insignificant fly; judge,
nine-pounders. No! Our proportions are elegantly slight; then, what our feelings were when, as our case opened, we
we close in beautiful compactness, and elongate in perfect felt the soft contact of the perfumed and down-like French
symmetry. But, alas! we have been displaced by, and kid gently pressing us ;- in a second, we found ourself in
neglected for, the monstrosities now in vogue. We first one blaze of light. Our senses reeled ; all things were
started into public life from a morocco, satin-lined case, the dazzingly indistinct; and we verily believe, but for the
envied property of a
relief we experienced from the fresh air which resuscitated
us in our drawing out, we should have fainted on the spot.
Anon we were raised to one of the most beautiful eyes
that ever gazed through glass : for some few moments we
were entranced, and then commenced our actual duties.
How charmingly were we greeted by the duke's gold and
enamel from the opposite box; how did the young honour-
ables reciprocate and return our bows and glances; we
never thought we could have done it, but—such was our
perfect self-possession--we fixed ourself upon one of the
magnates of the land, and pronounced him "a decidedly
ugly fellow."
But pass we over the first six months of our initiation,
for it took us fully that time before we had the slightest
notion of the meaning of anything we saw upon the stage ;
for, what with our being put down, that our fair owner
might talk to her friends, or suddenly snatched from wit-
nessing a most pathetic scene, that she might enjoy her
laugh at the very excellent good things whispered over
MUSICAL DUCHESS.
her shoulder by the facetious Lord Alexander Fitzspoon,
and our total want of knowledge of the language, we con-
How our heart beat when we felt the moment of our fess we were in one continued state of excited amazement.


THE COVIC ALBUM
At last we found the key to these operatic riddles. We
left off thinking of the words, and attended solely to the
action : this let us into the secret; for, however the plot
and dialogue of the different representations might vary,
that was still the same. We will now proceed to give our
short rules for understanding an Italian Opera. The chief
ingredients of these affairs are:-
Firstly, a Father,
Secondly, a Lover,
Thirdly, a Rival,
Fourthly, a Daughter,
Fifthly, her Confidante,
Sixthly, and lastly, a Chorus.
Such are the people ; now for their attributes :
The Lover is a Tenor,
The Rival, a Baritone,
The Parent, a Bass,
The Heroine, a Soprano,
The Confidante, a Contralto,
and the Chorus, small one-note instalments of all the above.
To avoid the tedium of personal description, we present our
readers with a series of portraits, commencing with
believe they had received notice to quit their present pre-
mises, and were looking down for some eligible spot on
which to deposit themselves. The hands are firmly drawn
across the third button of the tunic, and a vain effort is
made by the digits of the right to screw off the digits of the
left; while the thumbs dispose themselves far out of the
reach of the belligerent members. The shoulders attain an
elevation which allows them a bird's-eye view of the interior
of the ears; the elbows depict the wooden cross of an
anchor ; while the toes, as if coquetting with the ground,
confirm the opinion of Will Shakspere, that “so light a foot
will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint.”
Whenever these evolutions are gone through, the
auditor may be sure the tenor is pouring forth vows of
love and constancy, parched up with passion, or iced with
the indifference of his inamorata, -offering to get a special
licence, and alluding to flight, felicity, elysium, and elope-
ment. This state of things usually lasts a quarter of an
hour; after which enter the

PRIMA DONNA,
THE LOVER,
in the act of declaring his passion ; and thus it is done :-
The eyebrows are like six-bottle men after dinner, or
M. Jullien's picolo, elevated to the highest pitch, while the
contrary motion of the orbs of sight would induce one to
who occupies ten minutes by alternately placing her right
hand on her left side, and extending the other to some
unseen object in mid-air, always taking care to reverse
the position every fourth bar. This, with an involuntary


FOR EVERY TABLE.
iza
squeeze of her laced cambric handkerchief at the finale, character he knows to be no great shakes, and who has
speaks as plainly as possible that she loves the tenor, and nothing particular to recommend him, except a promise to
the tenor only. In most instances, the object of her three advance sufficient cash to liquidate his liabilities. Here the
hours' affection is conveniently within hearing, though, it soprano faints,—the tenor rushes in, through the before-
may be, out of sight. A few notes from the seventy mentioned window—and, having knocked all the curl out
fiddles in the orchestra are, by the aid of a little imagina of his wig, dashes his hat and feather to the ground,
tion, supposed to be the gentle twanging of the tenor's instead of burning the latter to hold under the lady's
property-guitar. No sooner are they heard than the nose, deposits his guitar carefully on one of the gold-
soprano trips up the stage, throws open a canvass window mounted tables-throws back his cloak—appears to be
about the size of the folding-gate entrance to Hyde Park, | anxious to ascertain from what precise point the wind
gazes intently down from its height (nearly three feet and may be blowing, to acquire which information commences
a half!), and commences a duet with her serenading lover. waving a very gossamer-like square of snowy cambric
Now comes
high above his head, which he shakes violently at his
oblivious love-places his hand
upon her heart-suddenly starts
up; and, balancing his body on
one leg, throws back his shoul-
der, seizes himself tightly by one
of his eyebrows, a portion of his
cheek, half his nose, and a stray
lock of hair; and having pro-
truded his doubled fist at an
alarmed occupier of a gallery-
stall, intimates he is a bankrupt
in love and money, and that, in
his private opinion, under ex-
isting circumstances, a little
prussic acid would be rather a
pleasant beverage. Now enters
the contralto confidante, who
walks on, kneels over the lady,
and, finally, carries her off; the tenor following, with a
trailing gait and drooping head. Soon after this, the soprano
who hears the last cadenza—starts—retires three paces rushes in from the back, followed by the (bass) father and
steps behind an ornamental pillar-clenches his fist at the | (baritone) rival, who are immediately joined by the amiable
chandeliers-treats his chest with a couple of energetic tenor. The bass seizes the soprano, who happens to be next
thumps—rushes down the stage-seizes the soprano's hand to the tenor; the soprano turns, like a pivot, on her axis or
-shakes his head-points, first to the proscenium, then to left foot, and finds herself next to the baritone, who has
the fur cap of the prompter, ensconced behind the Brob pulled his sword half out of its sheath, and is busily en-
dignag Dutch oven, which conceals him from the audience, gaged ramming it backwards and forwards, as though he
and keeps him warm, -concluding with a violent start were churning some obstinate cream against time. The
and preconcerted exit. The regular opera visitor is per tenor then commences operations by giving himself a simul-
fectly aware, from all this, that the father has not paid his taneous box on each ear, holding hard by his whiskers, and,
last Christmas bills;, that he has brought his daughter up as it were, throwing his respectable and ill-treated head
from her cradle; that he doubted not her love for him from hand to hand. The bass points vehemently to the
would induce her to marry a gentleman whose private opera heaven, in the third grooves, where a very large


THE FATHER,
-
--- jiet


THE COMIC ALBUM
moon, in the last stage of yellow jaundice, is brilliantly
lighted up with an extra jet of gas; the soprano seizes her
father with one hand, and devotes the other to some very
violent exercise of the air-sawing description. As the
parties become excited, the baritone rushes up to a wing,
gives three stamps with his right foot, and is followed by
the bass, who seizes him firmly by his point-lace collar;
the tenor draws his sword, and energetically gallops towards
them, as though about to spit them both, when the soprano
interposes, and this constitutes a finale!wherein the tenor
is devoted, the basso determined, the baritone desperate,
and the soprano distracted ;—and thus ends the interest
of an opera : as everybody knows, if it be a serious one,
the baritone will run the tenor through, and the soprano
will drop dead on his body, while the bass smites his
repentant bosom, and is left to reflect upon the perspective
increase of his expenses, in the shape of mourning, and his
still clamorous creditors. In very effective performances,
the introduction of offensive weapons, by a sort of myste-
rious agency, has been most successful. We remember
wish to have an opinion of their own, but appear perfectly
content to echo the opinions of their betters. They are
mighty stoics, looking upon the death of their best friends
with laudable unconcern. Their other distinguishing cha-
racteristics are, invariably standing, in a straight line, on
either side of the stage, and wearing their imitation worsted
fleshings over their street trousers: this latter circumstance
gives a varied expression to the natural shape of their legs, -
which, like Clari's “Home, sweet home,” may be sought
through the world, but ne'er met with elsewhere.
We trust these few illustrations of our favourite system,
of attending to what is-or ought to be—the staple of
theatrical productions, viz.,
“ Action! action! action!”
have convinced our readers of the efficacy of our plan;
and we will stake our gilt-moulding and morocco-case that
we convey to our readers' minds an impression of more
intense affection by one illustration of love's established
action, than all the combinations that ever delighted the
organ of sound, at the expense of the organs of sense can
effect.
. Who can doubt the fervent passion of our fat friend
beneath?


WD
seeing a soprano, who, notwithstanding the long odds
against her, made a point which left five daggers edgeless !
The Chorus are an unpresuming set of gentlemen, who
eschew all attempts at originality, and never manifest any


FOR EVERY TABLE.
Men may be capable of a certain feeling of attachment;
but to experience, in all its fusibility, the liquefaction of
the Soul, is peculiar to woman. There is a burning bound-
lessness, an illimitable intensity, an expansibility of endless
extent, an unfathomable profundity of deepness, and an
inaccessible altitude of height, in the female heart, of which
none but he who expatriates in the interminable mazes of
its soul-intoxicating rapturousness, can form an adequate
idea. Vainly would the plummet of Philosophy essay to
sound that Ocean of Affection, the gigantic billows of whose
incompressible immensity, swell, with an extensibility of
eternal might, in her gentle breast.—Snivel ON THE
SOFTER FEELINGS.

cil
First night of the Pantomimes.—The tricks went off admirably!
SELF-LIGHTING SEALING-WAX.
“Shewinge howe a certaine younge man, makynge a lovinge
offere untoe a faire ladye, burned his fingeres therebye.”
I wrote a letter full of love,
To her, to whom I'd fain reveal it;
The patent wax I bought, and thought
How well and quickly I should seal it !
Not the only tiger to a puppy.
My billet told of Cupid's fire,
O'er which the burning lover lingers ;
'T was meant to melt her heart ;—the smart
Of melting wax attacked my fingers !
LOVE'S DOOM!
Oh, thoughts that breathe, and words that burn,
With all the warmth of Love's igniting,
Are cold and tame, to that bright flame
From patent wax, I found self-lighting!
Yes, vain were all the vows I wrote,
She only laughed at my confession ;
My fate was sealed, and not my note, -
I never made the least impression !
When I asked you to wed,
Whom so long I have courted,
If “ Yes" you had said,
I had then been “transported !"
But fancy my woe,
As, with pitiless breath,
You firmly said "No,"
And passed " sentence of death!”


THE COMIC ALBUM
METAMORPHOSES NOT TO BE FOUND IN OVID.


7
MU
“Your hair is very dry, sir.”_"Umph!”
“You'll find a little of our Vegetable Extract a very good
thing, sir.”—(And then there's the Firature which follows the
Extract as close as the critic's remarks in the Quarterly Review.)
“Suppose we say twenty pounds ?”
“Twenty pounds! I'd sell the shirt from my back sooner than
1 submit to such an imposition.
GUESTS ARE GENERALLY OF TWO KINDS,
THE EXPECTED
AND
THE UNINVITED.


WEN
LU
“This is too bad.”—“Full twenty minutes past his time.”—
“Just like him !”-“* Punctuality's the soul, &c.,' but he's no soul
for it.”—“Gentlemen, the soup's getting cold; I propose we fall
to."- Agreed, nen!. con!
"I believe I've the pleasure of addressing Mr. Gobble.”
“That's my name, sir—what's your business?
“I beg pardon, sir, but they told me I was sure always to find
you at home about this time.


U
FOR EVERY TABLE.
"OUR STREET.”
I'm sure her wages must be good
To find her silks and lace !
You'd really think she was his wife,
So decked from head to feet!
And if she's not, she ought to be,
Or else quit “our street!”
'Tis very hard one cannot dwell
In peace with all around !
But prying, meddling, curious folks
In every place abound,
Whose only business seems to be
To ferret far and near
For tales of scandal, and to tell
Much more than all they hear !
They're quite a nuisance on the earth,
Who live but to repeat
Such tittle-tattle, slip-slop stuff
We've some in “our street !”
The boarding-house at number three
Is kept by Mrs. Erles :-
Oh! how that woman tries to match
Her seven "matchless" girls !
Such goings on I never heard-
It's really quite a sin,
The traps she sets for "single men”
When once they're " taken in!"
Her lodgers stay a week or so,
Then sound a quick retreat :
They want to lodge, and not be bored
To wed in “our street !”

And first of all is Mr. Smith,
An antiquated beau,
Who quizzes all the servant girls
As by his house they go.
His house-keeper is “rayther" young
To occupy the place-
A widow dwells at number four
Who pets a little lad :
They claim one's softest sympathies,
He having lost his dad !
I'm sure I would not say a word
Against the life she leads ;
But many, very many, things
Are covered o'er by weeds!
1
.


THE COMIC ALBUMI
Yet they “look down" on other folks,
. And deem themselves“ tip-top!"
But some, who live so over “fast,"
Can't "raise the wind," and stop !
Don't think that I'd insinuate
That Mr. Browne 's a cheat :
I only hope that all the bills
Are paid in “our street!"

Yet, bless me! every idle tale
'T were silly to repeat,
So I'll not say what I have heard
Of four, in “our street !”
Those pompous, fussy folks next-door
Give dinners now and then ;
They sport a footman and a boy,
But boast about their men!
And oh! the talk of wines” and “ plate,"
The fashions that they ape !
The plate is “German silver,” and
The wine comes from the Cape !
Now I could tell of many more
If I found scandal sweet-
Thank Heaven! I'm free from that at least
None more, in “our street !”
Then further on reside those Brownes :
How they contrive to live,
If once we think of all the routs
And parties that they give !

THE PRIDE OF OUR STREET.


FOR EVERY TABLE.
METAMORPHOSES NOT TO BE FOUND IN OVID.

CRITICISM.
KITAL
The Rat.—It strikes me
Apollo's shoulders want a
leetle more roundness.
• The Bull Dog. — Too
short, indeed! Pshaw! One
never has the nose too short.
THE SNIPE. — No, there
I differ with you; but I think
his nose a trifle too short.
The Owl.- I wonder what
the committee think of my
statue.


!
Hints ON BATHING — A Sketch suggested by the Ramsgate
Correspondence in The Cimes.
“Shiver my timbers! would you insult my Sally, you lubberly
Horse Marine ?"


FOR EVERY TABLE
HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON,
TAKEN AS HE WAS FORMING THE HOLLOW SQUARES AT WATERLOO.


THE COMIC ALBUM


Teca
ENSIS
PRED'HOMME
THEATRICAL ORDNANCE.-CASTING BOMBS.
“I tell you what, my lady, if I catch you
winking again at those swells in the stage box,
you'll find the axe a leetle sharper than usual.”


MM
WHINNI
will
WS
WA
25
BERNARD
"Splendid dress, madam—quite a hit!—caused four ladies to
faint in the boxes !"
STAGE BANDITTI CAROUSING,


THE INCOME TAX.
In the year eighteen hundred and forty-two,
It's excessively true,
Matters looked so blue,
That Ministers didn't know what to do.
The Exchequer was looking uncommonly shy,
Resources were getting uncommonly dry;
With further remarks, 't is needless to preface it,
The truth we must own,
There lately had grown
In England's finances a thundering deficit !
The Whigs, at last, fell into the dumps ;
On timber they got some unfortunate thumps ;
The balance of parties had changed, it would seem,
The Liberals very soon kicked the beam,
And, at last, from office they stirred their stumps.
On timber and wheat,
They very soon beat
An awful retreat ;
While on sugar, to make their defeat complete,
They were forced to give in toute de suite.
'Tis a fact that's rather worthy of note,
It was put to the vote,
And decided, upon the high authority
Of a Parliamentary majority,
That the very same Whigs, whose stock of assurance
Was said to be really past endurance,
Did not possess,
An atom of confidence — more or less.
When the Tories were out, and the Whigs were in,
The latter came down to the House with a Budget,
But out of their places were soon made to trudge it
By the former, who said it was not worth a pin ;
Their eight-shilling duty was treated with scorn
By the House, who 'tis clear,
Would not lend an ear
To their measure of corn.
On timber they'd taken their ground,
But very soon found,
That they'd done themselves but little good,
When on their last legs, in selecting wood.


Mondo da Vinci. dau.
MAKING UP THE DEFICIT BY TIMBER.
THE HEIGHT OF ASSURANCE.
--it


1
FOR EVERY TABLE.
9 no
A troop of the Blues,
On the people's shoes,
Plunges and prances,
As the morning advances.
When the crowds increase,
With a great deal of bluster,
There's a powerful muster
Of metropolitan police,
Who strut to and fro,
And keep people back,
With a push or a crack,
To get for themselves a front row ;
For really, in spite
Of their collars, and numbers, and letters,
They love a sight
Just as much as their betters.
But the plunging of their Rosinantes
Turns all their allegros into andantes.
“ The Queen, the Queen,"
Such dignity never before was seen,
And such condescension
Is past comprehension.
She bows to all,
Both great and small;
To the rich and the needy,
The well-dressed, the seedy.--
That courteous look,
The dirty scamp
Who sits in the lamp,
To himself exclusively took.
Oh! who, but a Queen, could find enough smiles,
To last for a ride of a couple of miles ?
And wear an appearance extremely affable,
Towards a crowd that's rather riffraffable ?
The signal is given — they fire the guns ;
In every direction, now every one runs ;
Not that they know exactly why,
But they think they ought to make a move,
And give the people near them a shove,
When " the Queen, the Queen,” becomes the cry;
Policemen their staves begin to brandish,
The steeds of the Blues cut capers outlandish,
Shewing at once their airs and graces,
Switching their tails in every one's faces ;
Corpulent people, who take up room,
Get a poke, that they think extremely rude,
Because, beyond the line, to protrude,
Their unfortunate stomachs presume.
The speech from the Throne
Is delivered and done ;
Both parties agree to vote the address,
Which, to all her Majesty asks, says-yes.
And now, at length, his plans to disclose
The Minister comes, he no longer can blink 'em.
So he rises at last, slap dash, to propose
A tax upon property and income.
On every one who has profits clear
Of a hundred and fifty pounds a year.
An impost is laid,
Which must be paid ;
Amounting exactly, in numbers round,
To sevenpence in every pound.
Oh! how the people at once begin,
In their outward expenses to draw in ;
And folks who used to be heard to boast,
About what they made,
By their business or trade,
Make the least of it now, instead of the most !
Now the procession comes,
Bang go the drums;
To blow in time the trumpeters try,
While their horses do nothing but kick and shy;
The mounted musicians strain their throats,
In a vain endeavour to sound the notes ;
With dreadful grimace,
They make an attempt, to supply the bass ;
sa-


THE COMIC ALBUM
o
Many become amazingly thrifty,
That assessors may n't think 'em
Possessed of an income,
Over a hundred and fifty,
There's something that Englishmen do n't much like,
In being obliged a balance to strike,
And shake his head
When anything's said,
About the profits last year made,
By Mr. So-and-so, in his trade?
Should creditors want to know,
If debtors are on the go,
The district assessor at once they 'll seek ;
And when they have found him,
They 'll pump and sound him ;
But if the official refuses to speak,
To judge they 'll try,
By the turn of an eye ;
Or if they should think
They detected a wink,
Their conclusions they 'll draw
From what, if they did not hear — they saw.
The only way
To make sure the assessors will nothing say,
Is to lay down a rule,
That candidates for the office shall come
From the excellent school
For the deaf and dumb.

JU
Nem).
A NEW METHOD OF BALANCING BOOKS.
But if the assessors said not a word,
Much that they might have said would be heard ;
And “might say,” or “did say,” becomes the same,
When repeated by a
Common liar,
For such is the name
That's given to fame.
Of profit and loss, in order to shew
What they are taking,
Or making,
Whether they wish it or no.
The true religion, that every one heeds,
Is money; and ledgers contain their creeds.
It 's popish, rather, to make an assessor
Act as a sort of father confessor.
It's true they are all to secresy bound,
But where is a man so discreet to be found,
Who, when beneath the load he labours,
Of all the secrets of his neighbours,
Won't walk,
And talk,
For instance, report went about declaring,
That the opulent house of Baring,
Brothers,
And others,
Had made a return, that they didn 't clear
One hundred and fifty pounds a year !
Which startled the public, accustomed to think 'em
Possessed of a rather respectable income.
of


FOR EVERY TABLE.
He who has an appointment with his lady-love, walks very fast (as he should do), and does
not slacken his pace to peep under a single bonnet. Upon his return, however, he reviews
them all in succession, and with a scrutiny that would do honour to an inspector-general.
The man who lounges about alone and talks aloud of himself to himself, is, in his own
mind, perfectly satisfied with himself.
The well-bred man who indulges in a cigar as companion of his promenade, removes the
dusky Yarico to a respectful distance when he passes closely by a lady, but the vulgar man
invariably puffs his smoke into her face. When the former is in her company, he asks if the
Havannah be offensive to her, or casts it at once aside ; but the latter presumes she “can
stand fire."
The man who quietly wends his way, reflects, meditates, or calculates. He who is
absorbed by a speculative project, walks quickly; and he whose imagination is enthusiastic of
success in trade or love (they so often go together), runs, rather than walks.
The man who trots mincingly along, with his countenance inclined forward, twinkling his
eyes and jogging his shoulders, is generally a babbler, captious and boastful.

DET
The studiously-dressed man, who smooths his beaver with his palms and dusts his boots
with his bandanna, is punctilious in most things to a trifle.
He who wears a profusion of gold chains, arranged in every possible festoon, who
displays his brooches, rings, and gewgaws, is a sharper, a quack dentist, a sheriff's-officer, a
jew discounter, a self-constituted count, or else a man who has suddenly acquired a fortune,
and wishes all the world to perceive it and his want of taste at the same time.


A STRETCH OF THE IMAGINATION.
HE elasticity of the human mind is extraordi- 1 Wonderful are the properties of India-rubber, and
nary. Where does that faculty reside ? In innumerable are its uses. We have air-proof beds, and
what part of the wonderful mechanism of the air-proof cushions for our chairs; is it not probable that we
body? In the brain ? No; for many men have may soon have bomb-proof bastions, the emblems of pas-
lost a portion of that substance, and still retained the reason sive resistance ?
ing power undiminished. Some men are said to possess none Thus musing on the elasticity of mind and body, on
at all ; and in worldly affairs these hollow-headed mortals are India-rubber and intellect, we felt a gradually growing
usually the most fortunate. It is our decided opinion that inclination to sleep-and slept ;-and lo! like the renowned
it pervades the whole frame, developing itself more promi Giles Scroggins, we dreamed a dream!
nently in those parts which are exercised the most frequently. We thought we were suddenly summoned from our
The wine-drinker has it in his palate ; the gourmand couch—and yet, with all the ridiculous confusion and mys-
in his stomach; the dancing-master in his toes; the tification of dreams, we were dressed—and rushing from
musician in his ear; the artist in his eyes and fingers; the our chamber, we found ourself on a spacious landing,
pugilist in his knuckles; the pickpocket in his palms; the adorned on either side with figures holding sinumbra
indolent man of thought, who thinks away his time in lamps, marble columns and looking-glasses; everything,
inaction, in his head; and lastly, the maccaronis, the ex in fact, around and about, was in the purest style of classic
quisites, the dandies, et hoc genus omne, have their minds in elegance, but not at all similar to the severe attic style of
their externals—united and yet separated, like a fashionable the apartments we tenanted : at the same time we felt no
couple moving in the same circle, but, in reality, living vulgar surprise or admiration at what we beheld ; on the
apart in the same house.
contrary, we inwardly experienced a sort of consciousness
In the name of India-rubber! if the mind be really so of the propriety and fitness of things, and the equality
widely diffused and generally useful, why may not the body of the man to the place. All these feelings passed like a
occasionally exhibit the elastic proportions of the mind ? summer breeze over the ruffled bosom of a duck-pond. In
Macintosh has worked wonders with his India-rubber. an instant we approached a spacious marble staircase, and
The Society of Friends particularly recommend the wear of began descending with the heedless velocity of a cataract,
his waterproof garments to all the members ; for in many dashing from stair to stair ; when, strange to relate, just as
of them the spirit has been latterly very much diluted, and we were within twenty steps of the hall, we slipped, our
a wet Quaker is a sore disgrace to the Society.
right arm got entangled in the balustrades, and we fell


THE COMIC ALBUM
priate position to receive an invitation to the funeral of a
miserly uncle, who had been labouring as a cobbler during
his lifetime—a sort of humble
curer of soles--and towards
whose “old shoes " we had
long cast a wistful look, and
he had at length made his
will, as he waxed towards his
end, breathed his last, and left
us his all!
We next seized a skipping-
rope, and a leading journal,
and read it as young ladies
do a fashionable novel,-skipping over the pages ; a pro-
cess which the dear creatures call
skimming the cream : a pretty
fiction, truly, the majority of
these productions being mere milk
and water!
With the agility of an ape, we
next mounted the perch of a
cockatoo. The applause was
deafering, and the audience ap-
peared as much gratified as if
we had appeared before them like
Don Juan, a-top of a dolphin, in-
stead of a perch. A tall pole, or mât de Cocagne, being
erected, we greased our own poll,
and mounted, and, standing on
the summit, with our heels in
the air, we ordered dinner at
so much per head, when a table
with wine and fruit was hoisted
in a groove, and we commenced
dining, to the infinite delight of
the gods. The manager, how-
ever, had provided most vil-
lanous wine, and it was actually
the reverse of a good entertain-
ment—the vinous potation turned our sto-
mach, and of course our feet resumed their
natural position, and the bottle and glasses
were all cut. We concluded our positions
—or impositions—by stripping, and going
through the ceremony of dressing for the
theatre — poised all the while upon our caput, in which
position one of the Galleryans hit us upon the os nasi with a
golden pippin, which, bounding
from our elastic nostrils, hit
• Nosey,'the leader, in the right
eye, which caused a sudden stop-
page in his playing
The manager rushed on, and
called angrily upon an officer to
take the cowardly assailant into
custody.
We, feeling no injury, and
wishing to curry favour with a
discerning public, rushed (like a
cat) to the lights, and magna-
nimously exclaimed — “Naked
and defenceless we were attacked, but we have re-dressed
ourself and are satisfied ; and morally certain are we,
that the gentleman who propelled that individual pippin at
our inverted sconce, merely intended it as a compliment;
that, like himself, we had made a 'hit,' and we therefore
receive it as the fruit of our exertions, and, as unbought
praise, dear as the apple of our eye;"—and, dropping our
hands on our toes, made a bow; and giving the manager
the approved customary pantomimic kick which sent him
off precipitately at O.P., we turned a wheel and went off
amid the shouts and plaudits of the whole house. Such a
thundering confusion of applause, mixed with calls for
“India-rubber," was never heard within the walls ; it was
truly an India-rubber bawl !
The manager was delighted, and presented us with
our two-pence-halfpenny in a cotton velvet purse: in
ecstasy we counted out the earnings; but as it touched
our itching palm the coppers felt like ice, and thrilling
through our vitals we awoke, and discovered that our
right paw had slipped into a mug of cold toast and water,
which we incontinently and convulsively capsized and
smashed. Our landlady scolded, nor would the sor-
rowful mug we presented her on the occasion pacify or
compensate her.
She gave us notice to quit, and in despair (tenanting
a back room—rent in arrear) we rushed to a neighbour-
ing hostelry (the Blue Last), and imbibed three-penny-
worths of rum and water until we were wound up; when,
reeling homewards, we mistook a gutter for a press bed-
stead, and were kindly conveyed on a stretcher to the
station, where we are now-lying !


-
THE NEW TARIFF;
BY GILBERT A. A'BECKETT.
Although the reduction may be of avail,
When taken with sausages into the scale.
Look over Class One—what a list it displays
For suiting our various means to our ways;
The lovers of chicory, roasted or ground,
May get it imported at sixpence a pound.
But who shall enumerate, even by halves,
The comfits, the capers, the cherries, the calves,
Lambs, arrow-root, lobsters, pistachios, figs,
Beans, tamarinds, beer, tapioca, and pigs ;
While the Premier, for cheapness to show us his zeal,
Puts only a shilling a hundred on peel.
Why subject to duties should other fish be,
When lobsters alone are admitted toll free ?
No clause of the Tariff upon them is thrown,
Can it be on account of the claws of their own?

EVADING THE DUTY.
HO
About the new Tariff, as every one knows,
We've heard from each party the cons and the pros,
But now we will give it in language more terse,
Not adopting the cons or the pros, but the verse.
The articles touch'd on are formed into classes :
At the head of the list number one, stand the asses,-
As in every-day life very often we see
The jackasses get to the top of the tree.
It's very much like a political sin,
The donkeys on easier terms to let in ;
When to judge from the many that every day strut
In the streets, we've of asses already enough.
But they who have clamour'd so long for cheap living,
Will ask what in that way the Tariff is giving ;
Since lowering donkey-flesh can't do much good,
As part of a project for cheapening food, -
CLAWS IN THE ACT.
Class Two, for those persons who like something nice,
Effects a tremendous reduction in spice.


THE COMIC ALBUM
Though cinnamon, pepper, and ginger, all three,
Very excellent things for digestion may be,
They are scarcely a boon, it must needs be confessed,
To people who cannot get food to digest.
Class Three, how it alters the duty on seeds !
And first, if a bushel of acorns one needs,
They are cheap, but it's really the richest of jokes,
Retrenchment in acorns-sounds very like oaks !
On aniseed, what though the duty is small ?
To the hungry, sure, any seed's no seed at all.
Flax, cole, coriander, and hemp, we pass over,
For, oh! can they help to put people in clover ?
Class Four many woods does include, but indeed,
Not even on beef-wood the hungry can feed;
For who could a meal on such articles make ?
Though in hedges of beef-wood there may be a stake.
And wood in the block, to the notion might tend,
Of taking a tête-à-tête chop with a friend.
While as to the poles, we shall have them in plenty,
At a duty of sixpence the hundred and twenty.
On boards and on battens the tax will be low,
But no one can board upon battens we know.
And the line from old Shakspere comes in not amiss,
Who is there can " batten on food such as this?"
The reduction on timber small aid will afford
To folks who have little to pay for their board.
Class Six the new duty arranges and settles
On ores, upon minerals, and upon metals ;
For those who in suicide see any fun
There's arsenic lowered to sixpence a ton;
Of impudent upstarts the numerous class
Enjoy an enormous reduction in brass ;
While gold is so favoured—pass free they will let it,
What a boon to the poor—let us wish they may get it!
The oxide of nickel, if any one takes,
'T is cheaper—and so is the spelter in cakes ;
While coals from ten pounds to one shilling are shifted,
So are cinders—the reason of this can 't be sifted ;
The revenue surely will get little cash
By this curious method of settling one's ash.
As to copper, the Premier seems running his rig,
When he talks about what it must pay in the pig;
For the copper in pig is a ring in the snout,
And the animals now can come over without.
If silver and gold they for nothing let in,
There seems some injustice in taxing the tin.
But still on the poor very hard it can't fall,
As their dealings in tin are exceedingly small.
Class Seven embraces a curious lot
Of extracts, perfumery, oils, and what not ?
With handkerchiefs scented by otto of roses,
How cheap we may blow, for the future, our noses !
And even the scavengers may, if they like,
About them bear bergamotte, cassia, or spike :
There 'll be no extravagance now in the wish
For quassia, paran, or blubber of fish.
To the last of these things an exception is made
In favour of British colonial trade

Life’s staffthey who'd make out of wood must be flighty,
It's not to be done—not with e'en lignum vitæ ;
Although out of sawdust by some it is said,
They might manufacture the Union bread..
Class Five to the growers of timber appeals,
And offers to put many spokes in their wheels ;
of


FOR EVERY TABLE.
To foreigners this is a bit of a rubber,
And loudly they cry that we won't have their blubber.
The clerks in the law, and assistants in shops,
Who cultivate whiskers, incipient crops,
Have something, moreover, that needs must elate 'em,
They'll rejoice, there's no doubt, in the fall of pomatum.
One item is somewhat mysterious and dark,
For what is intended by Jesuits' bark ?
We know that the Catholics howl at a wake,
But what is the bark that the Jesuits make ?
To discourage it surely the Minister meant,
For it's raised from five shillings to twenty per cent.
Class Eight for drugs, resins, and dye-stuffs provides,
Including a long list of many besides.
The catalogue over let any one read,
There 's nothing the mouths of the hungry to feed.
In cheapening aloes and similar stuff,
Did they think that the poor had n't bitters enough?
For lowering alum there's this to be said,
We shall get rather more of it now in our bread.
Reducing gamboge can but add to our ills,
By encouraging quack manufacturers of pills.
The duty on carmine 's not altered at all,
'T is enough to cause numerous faces to fall;
And occasion to ladies at least some dejection,
Who hoped from the Tariff a better complexion.
Class Nine, by its title, concisely avers,
Exclusive relation to skins and to furs;
On cats the old duty the Tariff awards,
And to British grimalkins protection affords ;
Though the sort of protection is likely to thin them,
· By holding out further inducements to skin them.
To people contented with ermine or fitch,
And who really ar n't over particular which,
There's, perhaps, no occasion at all to demur
To the Minister's method of dealing with fur ;
For no one would be so exceedingly silly,
When cat skins are cheap, to complain of Chinchilly,
Class Ten comprehends the new duties they've planned
Upon hides, and not only the raw but the tanned ;
Although it is strange any difference they saw,
For tanning a hide will establish a raw:
They'll be at some pains, it must needs be confessed,
To get at the number of hides that are dressed;
Since we should not exaggerate were we to say,
In schools they amount to some thousands per day;
In establishments, p'raps, where they constantly tan 'em,
To compound would be better at so much per annum!
Class Eleven includes manufactures in leather,
Shoes, boots, and galoshes it lumps altogether.
The duties are lowered, and shoe-makers say
Their wages they will not be able to pay ;
While clogs from abroad are expected to come
In such shoals as to clog up the markets at home.
We laugh at the French—they insult us in vain,
Their war-cry and bluster we treat as insane;
Their footsteps to follow we wisely refuse,
Yet the Tariff will force us to walk in their shoes.
Class Twelve does the various duties declare
On cotton, on linen, on wool, and on hair.
Oh! would that the Tariff included a tax
On the long greasy hair which hangs down on the backs
Of shop-boys and rogues, who pretensions advance
To the vile harum scarum coiffeur of Jeune France,

FOREIGN PRODUCE.


sco
XA-
THE COMIC ALBUM
On yarn, the same duty-this might be expected,
What law-makers deal in must needs be protected ;
The sails of a ship, when in use they may be,
Are permitted to come into port duty free.
After this, one would scarce be astonish'd to find
In the Tariff the terms of admitting the wind;
But at present the officers can't interfere
If the Custom House Boreas chooses to clear.
And now for Thirteen-so is numbered the class,
Embodying earthenware, porcelain, and glass,
Beads, bugles, and bottles of earth and of stone,
With other things fragile together are thrown ;
The duties are lowered on all, but alas !
Can they who want food have recourse to the glass ?
And such is his lot for a dinner who waits,
Till he finds it by looking at certain large plates,
Which in fronts of great shops though inviting inspection,
No food can afford us—but food for reflection.
Fourteen is a class the new duties to tell
On Silk, and on silk-manufactures as well.
'Tis strange that a tax of a shilling is placed,
Not only on knubs and on husks, but on waste ;
The use of such imports one scarce can discover,
For that which is waste, must be waste to bring over.
As for turbans, the Tariff as hitherto works—
Let us hope it won't lead to a war with the Turks ;
Alliance with England 't will hinder, perhaps,
For now at Britannia they can't set their caps.
Fifteen is a class which the duties defines
On stores of the navy-ropes, cables, and twines.
A hundred of turpentine now may come in
For a penny-oh! what a reduction in gin!
Sixteen is a class, 'neath which we find fall
Stones, pebbles, bricks, marbles, tiles, slabs, slates, and all;
Though food it don't cheapen, and each one must own,
To those who want bread they have offered a stone.
Of lowering loaves there is reason to talk,
When letting in plaster of Paris and chalk.
In class Seventeen the reduction we see
On cocoa and coffee, tobacco and tea,
Although on the last there 's at present not any,
The duty remaining at two and a penny.
Eighteen is a class which is meant to dectare
The tax wines and spirits in future will bear.
Nineteen is a class that is termed miscellaneous,
Of articles from other classes extraneous-
The tar of Barbadoes, Arango's bright jet,
Birds, bladders, books, blacking, with stranger things yet;
Bones, bristles, and bulrushes, candles in view,
And wax followed closely by canes and bamboo ;
Clocks, carriages, coals by the ton—not the sack,
And diamonds white in addition to black ;
Pots, powder, prints, goose quills, rags, scale boards, and soap;
Toys, vases, and wafers, are all in its scope ;
While telescopes they have resolved to reduce,
As being adapted for general use;
And who, after all, will deny that they are,
When the prospect of good for the country's so far?
To Twenty we come—'t is the last of the classes,-
With sugar the Tariff concludes and molasses ;
’T was policy, sure, the long list to complete
With provisions that all must allow to be sweet;
And though with deception the Tariff is branded,
When we come near the end we find something that's candied,
Our task is performed, let the public declare if
They 've any objection to make to our Tariff.
RUNNING GOODS.


FOR EVERY TABLE.


A SWEEPING CHARGE.
PATENT INDIA-RUBBER PAVEMENT.
The India-rubber pavement | On India-rubber pavement,
Is a monstrous rising thing !
“Come down" through thick and thin ;
Besides, among the seasons,
And sport your money freely.
What a perfect change't will bring, You cannot fail to win ;
For those who travel on it
The thing is too elastic
Will find it always spring !
To break, and “LET you in!"
Most folks abuse dame Fortune,
And very often snub her ;
But here is no occasion
A fickle dame to dub her,
When you can turn your money
To "DOUBLE on the Rubber!"

II
SAM
"
INDIAN RUBBER.


XA2
THE COMIC ALBUM
OS 37
LINES TO A LAMB.
QUIET BLISS.
A SONNET, BY ONE OF THE NEW RIVER SCHOOL.
[The following verses are an academical exercise, composed, it is
said, by a young Eton scholar.]
Pretty little tender lamb,
Skipping on the verdant mead;
When you 're nicely drest, I am
Very fond of you, indeed!
Soon the butcher's knife will be
Drawn across your woolly throat ;
And for dinner I shall see
That nice dish on which I dote.
It chanced, upon a Sunday afternoon,
That, walking through a street in Clerkenwell,
I sideways raised a casual glance, which fell
Upon a first-floor window ('t was in June
The air was mild and soft, like some sweet tune):
I halted, and my prying eyes did dwell-
Why, I know not, and therefore cannot tell
More than the man that dwelleth in the moon-
Upon a pair, there sitting face to face ;
The man in shirt-sleeves,- for 't was rather hot,-
Sat conning the “ Dispatch” at quiet pace;
The woman had some periwinkles got,
Which she was picking with intentive grace ;
And they between them had a pewter pot !
Oh! that shoulder will be sweet !
Oh! those chops will be divine !
But that leg will be the treat !—
On it grant me, Fate, to dine !
Sauce of mint, and young green peas,
With it send me to enjoy :-
I shall be in ecstacies-
Happy, happy, happy boy!


“John, do n't go out while I'm absent.” “No, sir.” “And
N do n't admit any one before I return.” “Very well, sir." (Aside)
N “W-a-1-k-e-r!"
.
Domestic Cookery. Dressing a Duck.
I


FOR EVERY TABLE.
may be drawn a perfect nymph in everything but costume,
which is carefully copied from the last book of fashions.
carried him several times to the Goodwin Sands, a mys-
tery which, if he continues his researches, he may one
day get to the bottom of. His essay on the natural
formation of grouts at the bottom of tea or breakfast-cups,
is said to be in its way) a masterpiece.
The parochial patriot is a guardian of the poor, who
has earned the gratitude of the rate-payers, by a discovery
of the minimum amount of food a pauper may exist upon.
He has saved the parish something in provisions, though,
it is true, there has been an increase in the expense of
pauper burials. His portrait, taken at the request of his


Occasionally portrait-painters, when they find sitters fail,
will turn upon themselves, like scorpions in a ring of fire.

fellow-guardians, is drawn in the position he used to
assume when explaining the provisions of the Poor-law
to those who were refused any provisions under it.
Some portraits are remarkable for the imagination that
the artist has thrown into them, and the skill with which the
real and the romantic are sometimes made to blend is
worthy of the highest admiration. Barristers who have
never been on their legs in court are, by a vigorous effort
of fancy, represented in the act of holding a brief; and
jewellery, which they never possessed, is lavishly bestowed
on individuals who have stipulated for it in the price of
the portrait. The artist's imagination will transfer a
boarding-school young lady to the sea-shore, where she
We have here the artist's own portrait, painted in a fit
of desperation at having nothing else to do, and intended
for the Exhibition, in the hope that the specimen may
act as an advertisement of the exhibitor's abilities. Of
course the back ground presents a quantity of unfinished
pictures, for none are so anxious to appear to be doing


THE COMIC ALBUM
paid a shilling to see the pictures, begins regularly at the
beginning, and compares every number on the wall with
the corresponding number in the catalogue.
There are some who have a nicer eye for the beauties
of nature than those of art; and an exhibition is sure to
represent as many of the one as of the other.
a great deal as those who are, in reality, doing nothing.
The artist is a lady, who has a select gallery of popular
portraits appended to the door-post. There is Mr.
Macready as Virginius, with a knife partly concealed
under his toga, and an intimation that any one may be
“done in this style for Three Guineas."
Talking of the Exhibition naturally brings to our mind
some of the individuals who are in the habit of frequenting
it. Among these, the one entitled to precedence is the
connoisseur, who thinks it necessary to completely shut one
eye and stick a glass into the other when he looks towards
a picture, and whose appreciation of the beautiful in art is
shewn by a series of grimaces illustrative of the ugly in
nature:


REST
AMI
Then there is the individual who makes a point of
having as much as he can for his money, and who, having
There are other artists, besides painters and sculptors,
whose works may be met with in the Exhibition. The
artist in the annexed engraving is employed in an ingenious
process, by which several portraits of her Majesty, in metal,
are taken off at once with a delivery of touch and a lightness
of finger that are only the result of long practice.


11
aan


BOC

Dane
HAR
C
SPECULATIONS UPON MASQUERADES.
HE narrow-mind- , diamond-studded grass (meaning, of course, such as was
ed twaddlers whom uncomfortably wet with dew), and leafy groves and coverts
we are accustomed that ever they thought about or sang of.
to call the old
French poets—the
guitar gaily-touch-
ing troubadours of
the dark ages —
have proved them-
selves only a very
simple party of
slow coaches, when
they wrote to prove
that spring was the
most pleasant part
of the year. In
spite of all the
flowery verses they
have left us, they
could never have
possessed the least
taste for real enjoy-
ment, or they would
have turned their
thoughts more to
the vagaries of the Carnival than the vegetables of the Had they foreseen that in future ages the recollection
country; and extolled the delights of the masked-balls of their existence would only be kept up-not by their
before all the flower-enamelled banks, dasied meads, lack-a-daisical verses, but the choice of the costumes of


Who
10


FOR EVERY TABLE.
an estaminet, than get weary with waiting amongst the
throng of masks, both male and female, who remain at
the doors with such exemplary patience — apparently
merely for the pleasure of the rush when the portals are
thrown open.
the ball-scene in “Gustavus," with ten times the number of
characters—a burst of fairy-like revelry, only to be coupled,
| in its bewildering sensation, with the first visit to Vauxhall.
The galope is an unearthly whirl of four or five hundred
couple all round the area, the rollicking of the revellers
contrasting strangely with the grave fixed demeanour of
the municipal-guard, who stand all round the stage, to
commit any unhappy wight instantaneously to the solitude
of the lock-up house, who transgresses the known laws of
the dance. The boxes are filled with spectators; and here
the most amusing adventures take place. Many a wife
and husband, who have each apologised for leaving the
other at home, whilst they "go to see their cousin before
he leaves Paris," are astonished with a mutual rencontre :


11
TO
Imagine the sensation that would be created at a Lon-
don tavern, if a mask was coolly to walk in for supper !
How they would stare at Evans's, or the Cyder Cellars, to
see a postilion march up the room, and order a roast potatoe
and a go of brandy! The business of the evening would
be at a stand-still. The chairman would neglect to finish
his legend of “Now the monks of old laughed, ha! ha!;"
the glee-singers would forget how, when, and where
“Willie brewed his peck of malt;” Herr Von Joel would
break down in his imitation of “De trush, male and
female ;” and Evan's himself, if singing, would possibly
stop the “Return of the admiral," and request the intruder
to leave the room.
The first coup-d'oeil of a French theatre filled with
masqueraders is not easily forgotten. It is a realisation of
and where if neither party recognises the other, many truths
may be told and hints given, under cover of a mask,
which would be dangerous to venture upon under other
circumstances.
The worst part of the story is the turn-out at six in
the morning to go home. The half-deserted streets are
cold, dark, and cheerless ; carriages are not always to be
procured; and the tumble into bed is followed by a confused
dream of chandeliers, music, paysannes, municipal-guards,
and fairy-like forms, fitting before the senses in wings,
powdered wigs, and postilions' boots.


THE COMIC ALBUM.
There are some persons who never recognise one another : each equally vain, and con-
sidering himself the superior, passes the other as though he did not, or rather, would not,
see him.
If an ignoramus meets you ten times within the hour, he will not fail to salute you upon
each occasion.

.
AL
Some recognitions end drolly. Two persons meet each other, stare at each other, and
smile at each other. They then bow each to the other, and seize each other by the hand;
“Ah! how d'ye do?" is the simultaneous inquiry; “Pretty well, thank ye,” the mutual
reply. Then, with widely-opened mouths, they gaze, and, begging a brace of pardons, finish
in chorus with “ I really thought I knew you!"
In some introductions the warmth of reception differs as much as the three degrees of
comparison ; for, although a person may not even please at first sight,

1
Win7


THE COMIC ALBUM
he may be thought agreeable at the second presentation,

.
and the third interview stamps him as the most fascinating of mankind.

Persons who despise one another, salute with mock respect; persons who fear one
another, with mock affection.
Rivals salute by knitting brows and biting lips; creditors with embarassment; debtors
with indifference. Friendship proffers the hand; love watches the expression, the index to
the heart.


THE COMIC ALBUM
common soldier, content, for a small pittance, to make one
in a mob, one in a theatrical army, or enact a silent or
dummy lord, and all at the same price. Would that all
silent and supernumerary lords would take a lesson, and
fill up the scene as well without touching the Treasury
heavier.
THE PROMPTER.
This man do we approach with fear ; unmovedly and
collectedly does he see the funniest thing or the most
dreadful murders committed ; like a man of the world, he
has become callous from being behind the scenes so long ;
the corporeal memory for all the dramatis persone, gifted
with an awful power-he despatches the “call-boy," and
even kings obey! He summons demons from below, or
angels from above ; raises the distant cry of distress or
tempest; the beacon in every difficulty, sending in with
equal feeling the bravo to destroy or the hero to rescue ;
and, like the mighty Jupiter, causing the thunder to roll
and the lightning to flash ; Apollo himself, even, bends
beneath his sway, and his sweet tone swells or falls directed
by his magic finger. We see the quiet little man pass,
never dreaming 't was his agency that regulated the whole,
which without him would have been chaos.
feel himself justified in being so until he has put some red
on the tip of his nose-pyrotechnically speaking, his fire-
works are thrown away in daylight. Many men invite him
to their tables to be funny, but like the silly lord who
bought Punch and his theatre in the street, they find that
they have forgotten the author of the quips and quirks that
he so admirably personifies.
Our finest comic actors have been constitutionally most
saturnine men, and why should we expect them to be droll
any more than expect Macready to come out to dine in
a toga.
He is the adored of a set, with whom he imbibes and
resuscitates his spirits after the performance, often causing
his nose to blush in registering his tavern score, which
comes of many goes ; before he goes he is generally the
last object in the sleepy waiter's eyes. At feeble day-
break, like other stars, he becomes invisible, through the
aid of a self-acting latch -key.
Pleased are we to say, that the habit of beginning the
night in the morning is fast fading away in the profession,
much to the addition of its respectability and individual
comfort.


V
UP IN A PART.
THE DROP BETWEEN THE ACTS.
THE LEADING GENTLEMAN.
THE COMIC GENTLEMAN .
This class is wonderfully various, according to the
size of the sphere of action. The leading gentleman at a
patent theatre is a creature of great magnitude, mysterious
and magnificent, believing the English stage to be that
exact quantity of board he may personally occupy at any
k Is a man who looks upon the world seriously, and is
We seldom, if ever, comic by daylight; and in fact, does not


FOR EVERY TABLE.
She is generally of a certain age, which you would
never guess at night; awful to the call-boy and condes-
cending to the ballet ; the larger she is in person, the
better it is supposed to be Siddonian ; her voice, if slightly
baritone, is advantageous. Some have been known to
try malt, on account of the hops, which we believe to be
god.
given time — taking upon himself, with persevering
ingenuity, the trouble of corkscrewing the plain and
straight lines of Shakspere into every imaginable shape,
to give them a different twist from all by-gone talent, which
he calls new readings ; he is generally considered more or
less great according to his salary,
A minor leading gentleman is one who passes his life in
heart-burnings and disappointments, if he should possess “a
soul above buttons ;" continually snatching at the Shak-
sperian wreath which tantalizingly eludes him, except on
benefit nights, or the visit of star, when, from the resources
of the theatre, it cannot be the perfect "feast of reason
and the flow of soul,” but hashed-mutton without spice.
As he grows older the vision of Shakspere fades into
feebleness, and he makes a more homely wreath of his
own; content with illegitimate means to gain applause, he
places it with all its thorns of disappointment upon his brow,
believing it looks very like the real one. In his own little
world he has his criticisers, his staunch friends and body-
guard, who continually say, and most religiously believe
that, had he the chance, he would put Macready to bed
in rather unpleasant sheets.

netics
intitilinn
WIDIMOTLLARINI
THE LEADING LADY.
UMITIMIN
This subject we approach with all the care we would an
old gentleman with the gout, for we know her sensitiveness,
and fear to give pain ; but let every leading lady who reads
TRAGEDY Queen.—“My child, I come! I will avenge thee!"-
(Aside to the pol-boy)—“Put some more ginger in it."

She is painfully alive to the introduction of young
and lovely Juliets, and bears no rival near her throne ;
she would rather die at the stake, a martyr to the cause-
or, what is tantamount, play in eighteen pieces in the week.
If eminently successful, she allows herself to faint as
the curtain falls, to give a true idea of her super-human
efforts, which is an excellent excuse for her remaining on
the spot until called for and bouquét-crowned by the
audience : this is not a bad move for rising young ladies,
but they must be cautious not to do it before their names
are in letters at least a foot long, or they may be left to the
sympathy of the carpenters.
this paper understand most strictly, that it is not intended
for her, but for a person she knows very well.


FOR EVERY TABLE.
If you have n't any sop, you had best make away with
the spoon.
Sops! Mr. Cerberus, sops!
How we should smile at all this if we did not remember
that the world in general so much resembles him. Every
circle has its door-keeper, either under the name of fashion,
pride, or prejudice, who knows full well whom to exclude
and whom to admit. The man of talent, without a name,
may kick his heels upon the steps; the man with a name,
minus the talent, is ushered in with smiles and bows, after
being prayed to knock, that the honoured door may open
to him.-But the sops, you will say, perhaps innocently,
that is the main spring! We taste as children, and long
for it ever afterwards, only differently flavoured. If you
believe it not, try at the great man's door; the burly
porter cries “Sop!" the footman, the valet, all, all alike.
Many a poor suitor has turned his daily bread into it, and
yet found it far short of enough to satisfy the rapacious
maws of the various single-headed Cerberi!
Reader, the world is made up of door-keepers.
i
.,
LOST HIS PARTICULAR CUE.
ENDYMION.
Oh, quench not Passion's crystal flower!
Oh, do not burn Emotion's shell !
When Pity, from her crimson tower,
Enshrines the wave where Beauty fell.
DISCOVERY BY A Dream!!-A young man, totally
destitute, has had a most miraculous dream, revealing a
sure and speedy method to realise a splendid income.
Any person enclosing a £5 note, will be put in possession
of the secret. Address—A. Catchflat, Handover Square.
Brightly the boulders glanced around,
With purple minarets between ;
When Genius braved the red profound,
And Love bedewed Aurora's sheen.
LIGHT SOVEREIGNS.
Examine the whole regal bevy,
And weigh out the Sovereigns in lots !
There's Harry the Eighth, who was heavy,
And Mary the light Queen of Scots !
And while over history ranging,
Both “heavy" and "light" there may be ;
I've one that I'd never be changing,
VICTORIA 's the SOVEREIGN for me!
Why whispers, in her pearly dream,
Yon viewless ecstacy of bliss ?
Ah! why, where tenderest odours gleam,
Stem throbbing Zephyr's amber kiss ?
In vain! behold, with velvet wing,
He silvers o'er the speechless thrill,
While tendrils weep to hail the sting,
And Transport's cry pervades the hill.
A Question FOR THE ILLUMINATI.-If buildings at
right angles were erected in the centre of the Regent's
Park, would it be any approach to square-ing the circle ?


THE COMIC ALBUM
BRITISH WAR WITH CHINA.
Of Congou, Souchong, and Bohea,
Let Chinamen boast as they please ;
The British have gunpowder tea,
Which proves the “most terrible teaze !”
A benighted traveller, who had taken refuge in a
country public house, demanded, after supper, whether
he could be accommodated with a bed. The landlord
answered in the negative, as his house was full. “Why,
my friend,” said the traveller, "you are like Sir Robert
Peel.” “How so ?” asked Boniface in astonishment.
“Because," answered the other, “he was the author of
the New Tariff, and your beds are all occupied.” “Well,”
rejoined mine host, "you may sleep in an arm chair by the
fire if you like."

THE DARK SOUL.
He stood amid the lurid thunderousness
Of Nightshade's battlements; around his brow
Crumbled interminable gulfs of Thought.
A holocaust of agonizing waves
Boomed grimly o'er his loneliness ; and Space
Wooed the dread scowl of his chaotic mind !

“Does he love his papa ?” “No, na!” “Kiss him, then, poor
papa ?” “No! no! na!” “Who does he love, a dear?” “Touzin
Charles !--you's so ugly!"
RIDDLE.
My first with bricks and mortar 's made,
And oft with plaster too o'erlaid ;
Thereon is many a fruit tree trained,
Thereto are captives sometimes chained;
Oft bills and placards it exhibits,
And chalk-drawn horses, men, and gibbets,
Adjoining houses it divides,
But peace maintains 'tween rival sides ;
And, lastly, to a flower of fame
It gives a shelter and a name :
My second may be said to be
A mongrel dog of low degree.
My whole- express it ye who can--
Is equal to “ Pedestrian.”
“Oh, Mr. Jenkins! fie, Mr. Jenkins! I'll tell my mother, that
I will, sir."


Sen
THE COMIC ALBUM
already displayed them publicly, and as they will, no doubt, serve to exemplify his extraordinary genius.
Their principal recommendation is, that while always effectual, they are as slightly as possible painful
to the patient, and calculated, at the same time, highly to divert the looker on.
If the tooth to be extracted is situated in the upper jaw, M. De La Ruse seats the patient on a chair,
himself standing opposite to him. He next secures the tooth with a long pair of tongs, which he
fixes in their position by a screw like that of a hand-vice. Then placing his heel under the patient's
chin, and holding the handle of the instrument in both hands, he suddenly, by a simultaneous extension

of the leg and flexion of the arms, effects the desired result ; himself, from a trifling excess in the power
applied to the fulcrum, rolling with the tongs and tooth one way, and the patient another; both, most
likely, head over heels ; a sight very laughable to behold.

Or, should the tooth to be extracted be a grinder of extraordinary size and strength, he attaches
thereto as stout an iron chain as he conveniently can, the other end of which is fastened to a large bullet.
The patient reclines, head downwards, on a couch constructed for the purpose, at an angle of forty-five.


FOR EVERY TABLE.
The bullet is then rammed into a blunderbuss, which the Chevalier fires, taking aim at a target elevated
in a convenient situation, or which any gentleman or lady present, who pleases, is at liberty to hold up;
M. De La Ruse engaging to lodge the bullet, with the chain and tooth depending therefrom, infallibly,
in every instance, in the very centre of the bull's-eye.
The locality of the intended operation being the lower jaw, the Chevalier causes the person to sit in
a chair by the side of a column ten feet high, which he assures the public is filled with teeth which he
has had the honour of taking out of crowned heads. He then affixes to the tooth, secundum artem, a
strong cord let down from a winch, or windlass, situated at the top of the column. These preliminaries
having been adjusted, he ascends the column, and with one wrench of the engine, dislocates either the
tooth or jaw.

Woulointiken
A
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AMV
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Wis
Sometimes he substitutes for the windlass a block, or pulley, fastening a hundred weight to each of
the patient's feet; having, in one instance, before he had learned to take this precaution, pulled a
gentleman up in the air, where he hung kicking for some minutes before his tooth came out, much more
to the amusement of the spectators than to his own.
For persons of quality and distinction, he has erected in his surgery a handsome gibbet of gilt marble,
in the style of Louis Quatorze, the supporters being fluted Corinthian columns, and the cross-beam being
represented by a magnificent entablature. The platform is covered with a rich Turkey carpet. A


THE COMIC ALBUM
silken cord, of sufficient strength, connects the tooth with a silver chain, which hangs by a hook of the
same material from underneath the architrave. The lady or gentleman being then placed in the requisite
position by M. Le Chevalier, an assistant below withdraws a bolt, and the trap falling, the tooth remains
suspended amid the cheers of the company. The drop being two feet, there is no fear of resistance from
the most obstinate molar, even if adherent to its socket; for such is the force of the fall, that if it bore
on the jaw itself, it would assuredly snap it asunder.
So suddenly are the above operations effected, that their performance is scarcely felt. Should any
person, however, be deterred, by scepticism on this point, from submitting himself to the Chevalier's
treatment, M. De La Ruse will be happy to Mesmerise him before hand.
FORGET ME NOT!
Forget me not !—It's very well,
But I've been (sighed a drunken sot)
A ticket-porter twenty years,
And how can I forget my knot ?
Forget me not !—Ungrateful words !
With this last news from India got ;
England, indeed, might blush for shame
Were she to say “ Forget my Nott!”


he
TUMMAMM
WE
“Coming it rather”
Like his father.
“You would, you little rascal, eh?
That's what you'll come to, some fine day !"
ea


THE COMIC ALBUM
flames ? upon the faded beau, inharmoniously shaking to and fro his ill-shapen spindle-shanks ? and upon
the slim and dowdy old maids, who give themselves up so devotedly to the amorous gymnastics, otherwise
called waltz, gallopade, quadrille, and contre-danse?
Good cheer is the pleasure of wits and the passion of fools, which stimulates and sharpens the one
while it besots and brutalizes the other. The man of mind never descends to gluttony; he remains at
least a gourmand; whilst the fool is but a gourmand at the utmost, and never can become (what the wit
frequently is) an epicure.

SACO
Good cheer, however, does not exclusively belong to wits and fools-Heaven forbid that it should !
't is relished by the tradesman, who delights in a frugal Sunday treat, equally as much as by the peer who

DEVIL


THE COMIC ALBUM
Amongst its confessors are those anglers thoroughly-inured (to rheumatism), who, fixed in an arm-chair, still
delight to cast their line amongst gold fish in a tub. As to its martyrs, they are sufficiently numerous,
and include such luckless wights that a slip of the foot sends to sup with the Naiades ; or whom the
tow-rope of some boat throws in a somerset, to provide a supper—not for the gods, but for the little fishes.
In Play it may be laid down as a rule, that the spectator who frequently desires to bet upon the game
is more of a player than he believes, for the lurking passion only awaits a gain or a loss to burst forth.
He who cannot lose without losing his temper; he that exclaims against his misfortune; he who jeers
the loser, who disputes the tricks, contests the points, and is continually quoting the rules, or appealing to
the lookers on-all these may be considered as possessing mean, vulgar, contemptible minds.
Those who play with turned-up cuffs, who wet their thumbs when dealing, who accompany every
card they throw down by a thump upon the table, and sort their “hands” in their laps, are tap-room
gamesters, ever on the watch for unwary bumpkins, but who sometimes find one that's “ Yorkshire too!”

Dominoes is a game so completely out of date, that when one meets two quiet old gentlemen
intently peering through their spectacles at the curious fragments of osseous substance, one is inclined to

8
----


FOR EVERY TABLE.
believe they are examining particles of some recently discovered antediluvian remains, which they
contemplate submitting to the next meeting of the British Association. Dominoes amuse the ninny
because they employ him, and some few men of mind, simply because they do not require their attention.
Chess meets with zealous partisans only amongst good old boys of from fifty to eighty years of age.
It is the King of games, but, like most sovereigns, is far more majestic than amusing : hence the disciples
of Phillidor's cunning art decrease in number daily. Who can wonder at the King of games losing his
influence after the “Ruins of Empires ?”

SA
Draughts would have disappeared long ago from “this dim speck which men call earth " were not it
and Chess allied to each other like the Siamese twins.
Back-gammon, which really has a very vulgar sound in these refined times, fortunately turned its back
upon the “great metropolis" about the beginning of the present century. Since then it has never been
heard of, except at village clubs, or seen, except behind a screen in the parlour of some old gouty Justice
of the Peace, who plays sixpenny games with his prim hearty-looking dame.


A FULL, TRUE, AND PARTICULAR ACCOUNT
OF THE
LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE :
Done into Verse by a “second Daniel ” (not) De Foe.
CHAPTER I.
BOYHOOD OF CRUSOE-HIS ACQUIREMENTS-DIFFERENCES OF OPINION BETWEEN HIM AND HIS RELATIVES,
LITERARY AND MUSICAL TASTES-TEMPTATION-FORBIDDEN FRUIT-SWALLOWED.
Many years back, at a place called Hull,
A little boy lived, who was thought very dull,
Every one called him a shocking numskull ;
For he would n't attend,
For relation or friend,
To his tasks; but his time would invariably spend,
In amusement and play:
And keep loitering away
From his school, on some silly pretence, the whole day,
Spite of all that his father and mother could say.
His father, indeed, would without hesitation,
Have given him full many a sound flagellation ;
But was begged not to do so
By poor Mrs. Crusoe,
Who loved little Robinson more than her trousseau ;
And called him her jewel,
And said it was cruel
To beat the poor boy, and that Mr. C. knew so.
So that Robinson, never once minding his lessons,
Of idleness grew up the very quintessence;
Had no Latin but bog.
As papa did n't flog,
And for Greek, he knew no more of that than a dog ;
And Toby, in fact, the renowned learned pig,
Could have posed him in all things, except a ship’s rig.
But that was a matter,
On which he used smatter,
'Till he'd set his poor father quite mad with his clatter.
For both Mrs. Crusoe, poor woman, and he,
Had a most insurmountable dread of the sea ;
And deep were the traces,
Of care on their faces,
When he talked about back-stays, and bob-stays, and braces,
Of main-truck and anchor,
And cro-jack, and spanker ;
Of cleets and of brails,
Of shrouds and of sails,
Of cat-heads and main-chains, and ring-bolts and dead-eyes,
Till he made the tears flow from his poor mother's red eyes.
And then Mr. Crusoe would kick up a rumpus,
And swear he'd his ears box, if he box 'd the compass;
And then Master Robinson Crusoe would find
'T was the best of his play to be “hauling his wind,”
And steer clear of all
Sea affairs, or he'd fall
In all likelihood very soon in for a squall.


TIE COMIC ALBUM
Now as little Crusoe grew up, by degrees he
Read through the adventures of " Midshipman Easy,"
“Tom Cringle,” “The Cruise of the Midge,” “The Red
Rover;"
Every sea story, in fact, he skimmed over,
And in them rejoiced as a cow does in clover :
And he knew well besides every nautical song,
Which he sang in a voice as melodious and strong
As a boatswain's hail,
In the midst of a gale,
When the ship under bare poles is scudding along.
Barry Cornwall's ballad “ The Sea, the Sea ;"
“The Rover's Bride,” with the music by Lee;
Campbell's “ Mariners of England” too;
“The Admiral,” rather too long to go through ;
Dibdin's "Black-eyed Susan” and “ Harry Bluff,"
And his fifty others ne 'er sung enough,
Worth reams of our twaddling modern stuff;
'Till by singing these,
He began by degrees,
To think himself destined to dwell on the seas ;
And determined to give his poor parents the slip,
The first moment he could, and embark aboard ship.
And which burst the first shot with a pleasant recoil,
All to exchange for gold-dust and palm oil ;
For the ship is bound to the Guinea coast,
Where the savages live who their enemies roast ;
And much does the captain to Robinson boast
Of the wealth to be made,
In that African trade ;
And tries to persuade
Him to join in the cruise,
Which Robinson don't feel inclined to refuse ;
And so he agrees
The occasion to seize,
And gets stowed away with the other live-lumber,
The day that the vessel sets sail down the Humber;
His father and mother not having a notion,
That their hopeful young man is gone cruising the ocean.

One day young Robinson chances to meet
A jolly sea captain out in the street;
Who owns a ship,
On the patent slip,
That is just preparing to take a trip,
With a cargo of beautiful beads of glass,
And chintzes, whose colours the rainbow surpass ;
And nails and hatchets,
And bolts and latchets ;
And muskets, that look uncommonly nice,
Of Birmingham make, four and sixpence the price,


FOR EVERY TABLE.
CHAPTER II.
THE VOYAGE-A GRATUITOUS PUFF-PITCH AND TOSS-PUMPS GETTING IN FASHION-AN UPSET-AN OLD MAXIM FALSIFIED-
BOOTS IN THE ASCENDANT-TROUBLE OF MAKING HEAD-WAY-LANDING AND SNOOZE.
Over the sea,
Merry and free, :
Bounds the bark, with the land on her lee!
Every sail
Spread to the gale,
Still our friend Robinson looks rather pale ;
He's singing “ The Sea,” though in spite of a qualm
In his stomach, he hopes that it will get more calm :
But looks rather blue,
When some of the crew
Advise him to stow
Himself quickly below,
And hint that 'tis likely to come on to blow;
Which Robinson fancies 'tis doing already,
Not thinking the ship can be much more unsteady.
The morning breaks, alas ! 'tis vain,
Ne'er will that ship reach land again ;
The billows lash and the tempest's roar-
Never was hurricane like it before ;
Never did waves roll half so high,
One would imagine they reached the sky;
Till at length a terrible billow rises,
And at one "fell swoop” the ship capsizes !

Evening comes on with her mantle dun,
Down in the billowy wave sinks the sun ;
Down in the wave,
Like a chief to his grave,
When he no longer the battle can brave !
Topsails are reefed, and top-gallant-masts struck ;
Things do not seem in the very best luck.
Twilight from over the waters is gone,
Still the old vessel rides gallantly on.
The moon floats high
In the midnight sky,
And the vapouring clouds skim hurriedly by.
Under her double-reefed topsails now,
Slowly her way does the gallant ship plough ;
Slowly and heavily rolls she along,
Crusoe don 't feel much inclined for a song;
Neither indeed does the captain or crew,
All of them now have sufficient to do.
All of them feel quite enough in the dumps,
Working as hard as they can at the pumps.
Capsizes the ship and all those in it,
All in the space of a single minute ;
Puts an end to their moans,
Their sighs and their groans,
And sends the whole party to old Davy Jones.
Little had Robinson Crusoe conjectured,
When, day after day, by his poor mother lectured,
On keeping his feet well protected from wet,
That his life would depend on that circumstance yet ;
co


THE COMIC ALBUM

That the kingdom, of which he has thus occupation,
Is a desert—because it has no population.
And being a desert, his next resolution,
Is that it just now can want no constitution ;
But that, letting the isle’s constitution alone,
'T is perfectly proper to look to his own.
And then to prevent any chance of disputes,
He quietly puts on his hat and his boots,
And walks off, most anxiously hoping to meet,
Some sort of a thing he can manage to eat;
The poor fellow not having broken his fast,
Since first on the shore of the isle he was cast.
But no,
'T is no go,
He walks to and fro,
Not an eatable thing does he meet high or low;
He tries all the shore,
What a terrible bore
(Not a boar; had he met one 't would be much mistaken,
If it thought that from Crusoe 't would then save its bacon):
But a desperate bore, not to find any shell-fish.
He thinks of a bird,
But the notion's absurd,
For the birds of the place are uncommonly selfish ;
And clearly not caring for Crusoe's condition,
Are occupied solely with their own nutrition !
He would like to stop
At some pastry-cook's shop;
He'd like a grilled kidney, or even a chop;
He'd like—at the thought how his own chops he licks-
A rump-steak as they cook it at Dolly's or Dick's.
He'd like many good things, but just now on the rocks,
He begins to think them "sour grapes,” like the fox;
And at last, though he'd relish much better a snipe,
He finds he must dine on a smoke of his pipe.
Now it is no joke
To dine on smoke,
Though some callous folk
It to laughter provoke ;
It would make a man look very meagre and squalid,
If he, for a week, got no diet more solid;
And I must say, to do common justice to Crusoe,
'Tis not what he'd choose, were he not forced to do so ;
Yet, even a smoke, though it has n't much gristle,
As a dinner is better by chalks than a whistle;
Which Crusoe remembering, never repines,
But out of his pipe like a gentleman dines.
Having finished his dinner and duly said grace,
He just gives a yawn,
And strolls out on his lawn,
Long sitting not being the way of the place ;
And he too had adopted the tee-total notion
Since the day of his lucky escape from the ocean;
And although he reigned then an absolute prince,
Had tasted of nothing but cold water since.
Crusoe does n't well see how to finish his “ day;"
He can't go to the play,
To his grief and dismay,
For his disposition at all times is gay.
He has no evening papers
To drive off the vapours,-
He can 't see the Standard, the Courier, or Globe,
And that evening's Sun
Has its course nearly run.
His position would ruffle the patience of Job.
In vain does he ponder-in vain scratched his head,
He has nothing to do but to go-to his bed.


FOR EVERY TABLE.
Terra
Go to his bed—this is all very fine,-
But where is the bed upon which to recline ?-
'T is true on the grass
He last night did pass,
For which he now thinks he must have been an ass;
When he only reflects that some horrible beast
Might have made on his pitiful carcase a feast,-
And though no such dread
Had entered his head,
He was so very drowsy when going to bed;
Yet now he 'll take care
That no jackall or bear,
Or other wild beast his poor body shall tear,-
And so he climbs up in a very tall tree,
And fixes himself to his comfort and glee,
Hung up from the end of a branch by the breech,
Quite out of all mischievous quadrupeds' reach, -
WAMU
A position not perfectly easy 't is true,
But yet at the same time consoling and new.
CHAPTER IV.
GETTING OUT OF BED-A WELCOME SIGHT-A NAVAL INTERMENT-A GATHERING-ARCHITECTURAL IMPROVEMENTS-
HOME MANUFACTURES-DOMESTIC DISTURBANCES-ALARMING OCCURRENCE-RESOLUTION.
Next morning, at six, Mr. Crusoe awakes,
Descends from his tree in a couple of shakes ;
And, as soon as terra firma he reaches,
Finds a detainer 's been lodged on his breeches :
Then looks on the sea,
And much to his glee,
Sees the wreck of the vessel in which he set sail,
Just driven ashore by the force of the gale.
And soon as he's down he goes off to the wreck,
Where, stretched on the deck,
His enjoyment to check,
His captain he finds—whom he takes by the neck,
12


FOR EVERY TABLE.
And leave two of their party behind as they fly,
One dead, and the other just ready to die;
The hapless young man
Whom to roast they began,
And who seems not quite certain, unfortunate elf,—
That Crusoe do n't now mean to eat him himself ;
But he soon finds that Crusoe
Does not mean to do so,
Inasmuch as such food
He do n't look on as good,
But thinks that the wretch thus preserved from the tomb,
Can be turned to far better account as his groom ;
So he leaves him his life and his liberty too,
Whatsoever his master desires him to do,
Says he 'll give him no drubbing, unless he should need 'em,
Which means, he explains to him, rational freedom ;
Then dresses him out in a livery tidy,
RESTIGIOUS
If he had been, the costumes were so very like,
That it could n't have failed Mr. Crusoe to strike.
When tired of their hop,
The poor savages stop,
And Crusoe perceives that there's one pinioned fast,
Whom they intend grilling by way of repast, —
Having lighted a fire of some withered branches,
At which they have just commenced toasting his haunches;
Now Crusoe who fancies that he has been slighted,
And thinks it most vile
That, as lord of the isle,
He has not to their little pic-nic been invited,
The group to a sense of their rudeness recalls,-
By giving them kindly a couple of balls ;
WR

is
alle
WA
But they in amaze
At the uproar and blaze,-
Being quite unaccustomed to civilised ways,-
Helter Skelter run terrified to their canoes,
Thinking some demon their pathway pursues,
And gives him the pleasant cognomen of Fryday,
As a sort of memento which he should have by him,
Of his saving his life when his friends meant to fry him ;


FOR EVERY TABLE.
CHAPTER VI.
NEW VISITORS-A STERN CHASER-A KING'S SPEECH-A PATHETIC PAREWELL-DEPARTURE AND ARRIVAL.
But, after a while,
By some destiny vile
Which seems to await his unfortunate isle,
One morning, slap-bang!
A mutinous gang
Come ashore their unfortunate captain to hang;
And are cruelly dragging him off to a tree,
Determined his soul from his body to free,
When Robinson chances the rascals to see,
And, resolved upon fun,
He again takes his gun-
For white and black game
Are to him all the same-
And fires away at them ere one could say " done !"
Which makes them as fast as the savages run ;
While, hit by a shot,
The captain 's brought suddenly to on the spot ;
For the horrible act
Which they meant to transact,
And addresses them thus with abundance of tact:-
“Fellow countrymen,-after so many long years
Of absence, I scarce can refrain shedding tears
At meeting, in this remote region of earth,
So many whose land is the land of my birth :
I came here a boy, and this beautiful isle
Was then a mere solitude ;—that noble pile
Was then unerected ;-—in these remote parts
There were no manufactures- no tillage-no arts !
By my sole exertions—I say it with pridem
By my sole exertions these wants were supplied :
And now look around on this prosperous isle,-
See arts, agriculture,- see everything smile ;
No lawyers, no doctors, no landlords, no rents,
No Corn-laws, no Sliding-scale, no Three-per-cents.,
No changing of coin, no vile clipping of gold,
No charge upon getting new sovereigns for old !
No villanous workhouses—no Income-tax !-
Heaven help the poor wights who have that on their backs !
Am I wrong, friends, in saying that this is the spot
Where those who seek happiness should cast their lot ?
As for you, friends, you have been convicted, 't is true,
Of a crime which perhaps would find pardon from few:
The soil of old England once venture to tread,
Ah! my friends, you 'll be hanged by the neck till your dead!
But can I permit this—will I, who can save,
Allow you to fill thus a premature grave ?
Oh! no, my friends, no, take this island, take all,
Far sooner than into so sad a trap fall.
For myself, friends, my duty recalls me, alas !
To my country, a very few months there to pass ;
Take the isle, then, and Heaven grant that all may go smack
And merrily forwards until I come back-
And when I do, trust me, you 'll bless me each day,
For treating you all in so handsome a way;
c
)
2
And the rest Crusoe follows
O'er hills and through hollows,
And brings them at last to a sudden stand-still
By threatening to fire from the top of a hill ;
When, finding they're quite at his mercy, they all
Down on their knees to capitulate fall.
Crusoe, perceiving these signs of submission,
Thinks it just the right time to excite their contrition
tablo


FOR EVERY TABLE.
NOBLE EMULATION.
TWO CRIPPLES.
"LOOK OUT BELOW.


CLOSELY PACKED.
TIT FOR TAT.


FOR EVERY TABLE.

now, at last, the
sea - son's past, You're sin - gle, one and
all ;
So
pray take care
a

beau to snare
To - night at
our last
ball!
So
pray take care a
beau
to
snare
To-
ONLIN
-
-
-
(11

night at
our last
ball.
of
11
cres.
-
IIIII
-
III.
IV
II.
"Twere vain to tell, my Isabel,
My hopes, and doubts, and fears ;
I can't reveal the half I feel
For three unmarried dears !
So cousin Fred you must cut dead,
And seek not to enthral ;
Sir John, to-night, I'm sure will bite,
Pray hook him at our ball!
My dear, divine, sweet Caroline
A lady bright must be;
'Twould be absurd to lose a lord,
Because he's sixty-three!
Who rolls in gold is ne'er thought old,
For years before it fall!
There's not a doubt but he'll speak out,
Accept him at our ball!
My darling pet, dear Margaret,
Will please mamma, I know ;
I'm very sure a man that's poor
Will never be her beau !
Sweet loves, I find you know my mind,
I urge it on you all;
You've but to lay your plans, and play
“A game at TRAP and Ball!"


THE COMIC ALBUM

SWEEPSTAKES.
TROTTING HIM OUT.

CHANGING HORSES.
A LA DUCROW.


A STATE OF SUSPENSION.
IN FOR IT.
“HAVE YOU SEEN MY HORSE ?"

APROPOS DES BOTTES.
Oh! ye who are plagued
with corns and bunions—or,
worse than both, the gout!-
ye, whose health imperiously
demands thick clumsy soles !
aspire to Olympus, if ye will;
strive to become poets; or
seek to annex R.A. unto
your names !— be good hus-
bands and good fathers; pay
your rents, rates, and taxes:
you have an undoubted right
to each, every, and either;
but do not allow your rash
ambition to exalt itself to the
title of Dandy ; for your
chassure irrevocably excludes
you from the fashionable
world.


THE BALLET. —"THE POETRY OF MOTION.”
res
In a way that defies
Opera glasses or eyes
(So rapid's his motion)
To form any notion
Of the number of pas
Which, in spite of the laws
Of the earth's great attraction,
With immense satisfaction
I'm going to write-
It's my pride and delight-
On the very best part of an opera night;
When the singing is done
And the footmen walk on,
And all round and round
Besprinkle the ground,
And the sweet Corps DE BALLET,
In muslin and chalis,
With their toes at right angles,
All covered with spangles
And other fine things,
Dance on from the wings,
And, like so many graces,
Chassez down to their places.
Here they wait till a smash,
Or grand orchestral crash,
Brings on, with a dash,
When the ballet has Perrot in,
Himself or the heroine.
I'm sure I don't know
Any one who can go
On the tip of his toe
And turn about so
But Monsieur Perrot.
I vow and declare
I do nothing but stare
When he cuts in the air,
And crosses his pair
Of beautiful pumps,
Every time that he jumps,
.
He, in medias res,
Performs with such ease.
And when, with a bound,
He comes back to the ground
And spins round and round,
Like an obstinate top
That the deuce cannot stop,
Which twirls on its peg
As he does on one leg,
-----
Song-
------Reet
?


THE COMIC ALBUM
Can you form any notion
Of poetry's motion,
E'en down to her very toes,
Equal to Cerito's ?
She 's perfect, she's charming,
She's something divine !
The three graces combined
With the sweet muses nine-
Oh, dear heart alive! do n't I wish she was mine?”
This is all very true,
But just take a view
I feel all the while
That some frenzied turnstile,
When seized with a fit,
Must “The Perror" have bit!
Now, mark! as he dances
He slowly advances,
And takes a good stare
At each of the fair,
Shakes his head, turns away-
As much as to say
“Not here ! lack-a-day!"-
Then he crosses his hands,
And disconsolate stands
On the stage, near the middle,
When the leader's first fiddle
Commences a wonderful high-diddle-diddle;
At which he turns round
And clears at a bound .
Of the boards fifteen feet :
And thus does he meet
His soul's idol and love,
Who springs on from above,
From the back of the scene,
Clearing 't other fifteen.

And here there's a pause
For the shouts of applause
Which rival the thunder's,
At these ballet wonders !
“Only look at her face !
Mark her exquisite grace,
And consider the pace!
Of the danseuse before
She comes on to the roar
And the clapping of hands,
As she patiently stands,
Like a figure by Chantrey,
Made up for her entrée.
Consider the woes
Of her out-stretching toes,


NOVO
-are
THE COMIC ALBUM
!!! I am
EU
HH
W
"
V
Then a chassez and twirl,
And all-round-the-stage-whirl,
At the top will discover
The pas-de-deux lover ;
His hand neatly placed
Round dear Cerito's waist,
And so perfect their pose.
On the tips of their toes,
That this " balance of power”
They can keep by the hour.
Now trumpets and drumming
Announce some one coming,
Which seems a sad blow
To poor Monsieur Perrot,
And equally so
To MA'Amselle Cerito,
For they instantly part
With a hand on each heart,
And a look that might say-
“We wish quarter-day,
When we'd no means to pay,
Had happened to come
Instead of that drum
And its consequent hints-
We shall soon see the prince."
And such is the case ;
For a very red face
And a very black wig,
And gloves very big,
And a cap and a feather,
Then come on together :
All which prove that the gent
Who wears them's the re-gent.
He having well frowned
On the supers around,
In his great power's latitude,
Strikes, as may be seen, a magnificent attitude :
His highness ne'er talks
Nor dances, but stalks,
And all about walks,
Like a great pedometer,
Or vile busy Peter,
Whose only delight
Is to vent his base spite,
And insist upon carrying
Off, and perhaps marrying,
The very young woman
Who swears—"on earth no man,
Though she's far from ungrateful,
Can be half so hateful.”
He then threatens force,
As a matter of course,
Swears homeward he 'll drag her,
Claps his hand to his dagger
With an air of delirium
And horrid distraction, -
But the reader must know
This is all done by action, -
Then the guards are marched on
In a line one by one,
Ir


THE COMIC ALBUM
Then, reader, directly,
If all's done correctly,
Commence the bright showers
Of bouquets and flowers,
Which titled folks throw
At Monsieur Perrot
And Ma'amselle Cerito,
Till, for love, they near smother
The one and the other,--
And would do so, no doubt,
But the curtain 's rung down,
And the pair are dug out!

Kre
SAL
THE CENTRIFUGAL RAILWAY
Is a practical illustration of man's ingenuity to turn things stopping than when he started. The fortune-hunter, who
upside down, and while he laughs at its wonderful effects, | marries age and ugliness for money, takes his seat in the
he is constrained to acknowledge the centre of-gravity! centrifugal railway of matrimony, only that he encounters
A person making a revolution is like a man on the brink the plain without the proper inclination.
of bankruptcy, who rushes down the inclined plane at the The spendthrift is ever travelling by a centrifugal
rate of one hundred miles an hour, fancying that “things railway, the impetus of which causes him to “run up” so
must take a turn,” he knows not how, to set him on his much more than he intended, and at so quick a rate, that
legs again; while experience only demonstrates, that he he unconsciously acquires the habits of “a fast goer," and
has taken a somerset which leaves him precisely where nothing stays his progress until he quietly settles down
he was, so far as advantage is concerned (only that he in her gracious Majesty's Fleet!
might have made a smash), and that he has reached the Verily, there are more centrifugal railways in the ſ
end of the movement without bettering his condition. He | moral than in the material world!
has “gone on” longer, it is true, but then he is nearer


Coa
Yo
FOR EVERY TABLE.

Gracious goodness! Poor Flora killed with the nasty rats' poison !
Dearee me; I thought she moped, but never dreamt she'd commit
suicide !
Yes! to your love the welcome gift I owe,
And Flora's portrait soothes my cup of woe!
THE NEW TARIFF.
Just look at "tariff cattle!"
Poor things ! I'm much mistaken,
If folks will live on" tariff pork,”
And that way save their bacon !
Those “ tariff” sheep and oxen,
These shores should never land on ;
For “ tariff” legs of mutton
Have scarce a leg to stand on!
We've “tariff mild tobacco,"
With “ tariff books" for pufing :-
I'm tired of all this “tariff”—
I’m up to “tariff snuff"-ing:
I'm bored with “ tariff,” waking,
I'm haunted with it, dreaming !-
I'll wring my parrot's head off,
To stop her “tariff” screaming !
To pass this “ tariff” measure,
'Tis well I had no hand in :-
Who cares for “ tariff sugar"
With lots of “ tariff sand" in ?
And as for “ tariff spices,"
Their flavour's but so-so-ish;
The “tariff coffee 's” very weak,
The “ tariff tea” is sloe-ish !
The world is mad with “ tariff,"
And truly 't is bewildering !
I wonder if this “ tariff”
Extends to wife and children !
Our duties to each other
It ought to set forth clearer-
Will “ tariff” make relations cheap,
Or will it make them dearer ?


THE COMIC ALBUM
alone knows how to choose and harmonise the colours of her costume; to determine the size,
form, and cut of her vestments; and by their aid to lessen or increase, change or modify,
reveal or conceal, her beauties and, supposing them possible, her blemishes.
In the “golden age,” before the days of looking-glasses, magazins de modes, mantua-
makers, and milliners, Cupid's arms were his bow and quiver. In these modern times, the
arts and mysteries of the toilet may properly be called the ammunition and military tactics
of Love.
It seldom happens that a man distinguished by real ability and merit, is affected in
his dress. He generally pushes negligence, in this respect, even beyond reasonable bounds;
nevertheless, the line of demarcation has two extreme points: hence, we cannot help regard-
ing him who always presents himself to us studiously and finely dressed, as of less than
even secondary mind.
The doctor, the professor, the lawyer, the talented writer, and the distinguished artist,
dress in sombre hues, generally in black. Commercial travellers, sporting men, clerks, and
shopmen, adopt every variety of colour that graces a tailor's pattern-card.
The thorough-bred gentleman never dresses smartly on Sundays, high-days, or holidays ;
neither should he, for he has six opportunities of doing so, where most persons have but one.
Your regular dandy seldom appears abroad on these occasions; but when he does, he prefers
making the circuit of a mile to avoid traversing a public thoroughfare.
VE
OF THE HAT.—“QUI CAPIT ILLE FACIT!"
GOS
The Hat, by its form, and the manner in which it is worn, assists materially the study
of the man it covers.

EN
He who cocks it on one side, is a coward or a bully; he that wears it thrown backwards,
a simpleton. The man who bears his beaver forward, is a banterer and a sneerer.


FOR EVERY TABLE.

W
IN
LE
RES
SNN
SELAIOS
nas
RRD
th
Willibility
He who half buries his eyes beneath his castor, is a peevish grumbler. A smartly-
brushed hat indicates orderly and regular ways; a hat with a very broad brim sometimes
covers equally narrow principles.
The butcher, the baker, and the tailor, encased in holiday attire, exhibit a strong
partiality for long-preserved long-napped beavers of long-forgotten shapes.

AIN
12
Hats often decide wagers. We have seen many a dispute settled by an appeal to the
head, if not to the brain. Tom bets Joe a new hat he can't tell the distance between London
Bridge and the 1st of August, 1900. Joe agrees, and loses—of course. Tom expected
a guinea Christie ; but Joe retaliates in a Bread Street “four-and-nine.”
Mem. Never wager a hat without settling the price; for, eventually, the joke may be felt.
Open-air and park preachers sport hats differing in first principles, even more than their
doctrines. When a hearty shower of rain descends to weaken the spiritual flow, and by a
sudden increase of the cold without disperses the numerous auditories, some of the unreverend
fathers (they despise degrees) cover the fragile gossamer with a handkerchief, and, tucking


FOR EVERY TABLE.
THE HAIR AND BEARD.
Long matted hair, to which Sir Peter Laurie and the Dover jailors have evinced such
a cutting dislike, and Colonel Sibthorpe and Mr. Muntz such a decided partiality, denotes,
when in company with a very greasy coat-collar, the artist whose talent the Royal Academy
does not appreciate (and who never forgets to return the compliment), the eccentric
musician, the heterodox preacher, the amateur theatrical, the socialist lecturer, and the
lawyer's clerk.
The perruquier (for we have no barbers now-a-days), the dandy, the “literary lion" of
the Newgate Calendar school, and "walking gents," wear their hair combed, brushed, oiled,
frizzled, and parted into sets of curls, like the fashionable dolls in the " Magazin de Modes."
Some persons arrange their locks in the styles adopted by remarkable individuals ; as
George the Fourth, Dusty Bob, Prince Albert, Jack Ketch, Count D'Orsay, and M. Jullien.
A man who gets into the model-prison is not at liberty to adopt either of these varied styles,
but his locks are cut upon government principles, to the air of “ Croppies, lie down."
Stiff bristly hair generally denotes stubbornness, whilst the soft and silky implies great
patience and love of amusement. Light hair appears to indicate sensuality ; black, ardour ;
and brown, moderation. Grey hair, before age, arises from misanthropy, physical or moral
MIN

YA
yo
sufferings, and excess of nocturnal labours or pleasures. Baldness is as frequently the sign
of active intelligence as of active dissipation.
Whiskers should never be worn à la Cumberland; they are far from elegant or sym-
metrical, and invoke comparison in form with a crumb brush, a half-opened razor, or the
white-faced baboon.


FOR EVERY TABLE.
Scunts.
Irishman said of the Dutch pair of breeches. What weather! more cumbrous viands having given place to fruit, wine,
It rains cats and dogs, and the kennels are as full as they and biscuits.
can hold. Any port in a storm, especially such a one as “Sir, you do me proud. Delighted to find my legs
this-snug as a bug in a rug, or a doe and her family in a under your mahogany."
rabbit-hutch. Came up from Brumagem this morning with “You've just come from the Birmingham Railway, I
a cloak and carpet bag – got wet through stepping from think, sir?" inquires the hostess.
the station into a cab. All the piccaninnies quite well, Mrs. “ Yes, ma'am, flew along like a shot out of a shovel —
Mogg? glad to hear it — Thank you, sir, a wing, if you whish, -ish, -ish- came to a hill, ont popped another en-
please — nothing like flying when you want to make up for gine and pushed behind; roared like a wild beast at the
lost time. I'll take a little of each - smallest donations Surrey Zoological — steam let off when we came to the
thankfully received.” (Here the Funny Gentleman's plate station, pharr, -arr, -arr, -arr, -arr,- stepped out all right
goes the round of the table.) “A slice of tongue — much and tight,-- no bother about tipping — met Perkins; and
obliged — the stomach is the best place for a silent one ; 1 here I am at last, rather more comfortable, I fancy, than a
plenty of tongue— thats the way to get through the world toad under a harrow,— your health, ma'am.”
- a little cheek too's not amiss, 'specially when it don't “Had you a pleasant journey, sir ?”.
blush, Miss Matilda — a glass of wine — yours, miss — "Tol lol, ma'am. Could n't stop to bait, that was the
did n't see you at first — quite out of sight in the corner worst. However, I always carry a pocket-pistol in case of
comfortable berth, though, seemingly, I wish I was in accidents. Here it is,-look! Like to let it off, ladies ?
somebody's place; you are rather dull though, both of you. Miss Matilda, you seem rather out of spirits ; suppose you
'Laugh, and grow fat,' that's my maxim.” And then have a shot ; remember the ‘Landlady of France.'”
Mr. Poague muttered something about a screw being loose,
“I have no recollection, sir, of any such person ; and
and looked particularly knowing, thereby giving consider-
I should faint at the smell of spirits.”
able amusement to all but the two persons for whose benefit A lady inquires whether Mr. Poague prefers the old
his remark was intended.
mode of conveyance to the new.
Mr. Poague was a middle-aged middle-sized personage,
“Nothing like a stage-coach, after all, ma'am ; ya hip !
of lightish hair, and very blue twinkling eyes, with “crow's 'st, 'st, 'st. Tra tara tara ta ta ! — All right, and off we go
feet” at their angles. He had a Roman nose, a little on | – that's the ticket for my money — beats cock-fighting
one side; a very wide mouth, and a reddish brown com hollow, eh, Miss Matilda ?”
plexion. His face looked as if it had once been seamed “Cock-fighting is a very cruel amusement, sir; I don't
with the small-pox, but had been smoothed a little with a admire it at all, nor yet those who indulge in it!"
pumice-stone.
“Oh! certainly, miss, certainly. Fine fun though —
“Mr. Poague, may I trouble you for a few greens ?” cluck, cluck, cluck; cock-a-doodle doo.” And he panto-
asks one of the party.
mimically illustrated the action of chanticleer militant to the
“ You may, sir, but you won't; no trouble at all, I great peril of the glasses and decanters near him on the
assure you. Nice things are greens; apt to be done brown table, and also of his next neighbour's shins.
though sometimes--see any in my eye, sir?” (to a gentle- In the midst of this display of mimicry, the children
man staring at him)-"you 'll have to get up pretty early to | are announced. They are infinitely amused; and, to
do that, I can tell you. Thank you, Mrs. M.; not a morsel heighten their mirth, the Funny Gentleman contorts his
more.”
visage, rolls his eyes, and grins like a corbel from a ruined
“Mr. Poague, you've made a very poor dinner,” says abbey.
the lady of the mansion.
“Aha! my little chick-a-biddies, what do you think of
“Very poor, indeed, ma'am-over the left. Up to this ?" And now follows a tune on his chin, after the
here, I assure you; chuck full! -- played a stick like an em manner of the celebrated quondam performer at Vauxhall.
peror !" Probably Mr. Poague alluded to Heliogabalus; if Immense is the gratification of the infants Mogg.
so, he was perfectly right.
“I say, Mr. Poague," bawls Master Tom,“ please tell R
“Poague, I'm glad to see you,” cries Mr. Mogg; the us a funny story."
Issan


E
-----
THE COMIC ALBUM
-------
--
---
-
----
lips, mysteriously gabbling the magic formula, “ crinkum
bovis domine Jovis, hi coculorum jig." He then threw his
visage, and thereby the spectators, into convulsions-gave
a twirl with his hands, and—lo! nothing remained in them
but the paper; the tumbler had disappeared, and the
Funny Gentleman was crunching, apparently with great
relish, the fragments of glass between his teeth. Another
contortion of the countenance, another flourish of the
hands, and the tumbler was again exhibited—to all appear-
ance none the worse for the experiment.
With these, and the like facetiæ, did Mr. Poague amuse
the inmates and visiters of Pomona Cottage. At the con-
clusion of the evening he sang a comic song, with a chorus
of “bow, wow, wow," which was unanimously encored ;
whereupon he sang another, more comic than the first-
and just as the clock struck twelve, having then finished his
third tumbler of brandy and water, he abruptly took his
leave, averring that he was a man of regular habits, and
made a point of never staying out later than midnight.
Long did the little Misses and Masters Mogg remember
“ Funny story! my young calimanco ? Come, then —
Did you ever hear of the Marsh Mockasan, the big snake
of North America, that eats a couple of live oxen and half
a dozen little boys every morning for breakfast, and thinks
nothing of it?”
“No ; do tell us about him."
“Well, then, let me see — no, I'll tell you about him
some other time. I know something you 'll like — you
shall hear all about the Sexton of Saragossa."
“ Please, sir, whereabouts is Saragossa ?”
“In Ballinamara Boo, my little dear. Well, this sexton
went into the churchyard one day to dig a grave for an old
miser, that had starved himself to death in a coal-cellar."
Here Mr. Poague groaned shudderingly, and the flesh of
his young audience crept.
“Oh, go on sir, please go on."
“Well, then, the sexton began digging the grave, and
he dug, and dug, and dug, and, first, he threw up a thigh-
bone, and then a scull, and then he came to an old coffin.
So he began scraping away the dirt to see whose it was,
and while he was doing that, something inside bumped
against the lid, -—and he heard a voice say—".
“Oh, gracious ! ” interrupted the children. “Hub-
baboo diddledy doo, whiskey giddledy wobbledy baw'-
that 's Latin, my little dears. 'Hallo!' says he, 'who's
there ?''Put in your pickaxe, and you 'll see,' cries the
voice inside. So he just put in the end of his pickaxe, -
something gave it a tug-and when he pulled it out”—(the
Funny Gentleman paused for a moment, with a look most
supernaturally owlish, which was reflected by the sympa-
thetic little ones)—“the end of it-an inch and a half-was
gone : it had been bitten off like a carrot !" The children
all screamed—the grown-up people laughed; but Matilda
remarked to Eugene, that it was a shame to frighten poor
little children by telling them such stories.
Mr. Poague, after this (to the further beatification of the
chubby cherubim), gave a faithful and interesting imitation
of the thrush, the skylark, the nightingale, and the parrots
at the Zoological Gardens. And then he exhibited a piece
of legerdemain.
Taking a large glass tumbler from the table, he wrapped
it round with a piece of brown paper, and raised it to his

THE FUNNY GENTLEMAN.


In rich ornamental bindings, small quarto, price 2s. 6d. each,
COMIC NURSERY TALES: .
En Humourous Werse.
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD AND BLUE BEARD,
By the Author of “The New TALE OF A TUB.” Copiously Illustrated.
"If there be any family in which the nursery people have not been educated' out of all relish for fun, this new and
illustrated edition of the memoirs of the illustrious Blue Beard will be received by them with shouts of laughter, the echo of
which, or chorus to it, will probably be heard in the parlour, and even reach to the drawing room."-ATH ENÆUM.
be received by them with shouts of laughter, the echo u
JACK THE GIANT KILLER,
By the Author of “The Comic Latin GRAMMAR.” With numerous Illustrations by LEECH.
In The Press:
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, THE SLEEPING BEAUTY,
ROBINSON CRUSOE, &c.
London: William S. ORR and Co., Amen Corner; and William Curry, Jun., and Co., Dublin.
THE BOY'S OWN BOOK:
A Manual of the Sports and Pastimes of Youth : with upwards of Three Hundred Illustrations.
Price 8s. 6d. boards, and 10s. 6d. morocco, elegant.
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A repertory of every elegant and iinproving pursuit that tends to elevate the female character, and constitutes
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With Five Hundred Illustrations. Price 21s., richly bound in crimson silk.
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With One Thousand Designs by KENNY MEADOWS. Vols. I. and II., 20s. each, handsomely bound in cloth.
The Work will be completed by another Volume, which is now publishing in Parts.
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With Designs by Raffet and Horace Vernet. In Two Vols. royal octavo, cloth, gilt. Price 36s.
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Robert Tyas, 8 Paternoster Row.
Find
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