DOI issue:
Punch’s Almanack for 1854
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17043#0011
PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1854.
MONTHLY MEMS.
By a Cabby.
November.—Fogs this month
may he turned to account in many
ways by the industerous. Always
take time-fares. Yon can always
lose yourself, and the thicker the
fog is, the thicker you can lay it
on. Also, remember fares taking
change can’t see the colour o’ your
money. If you’ve a spite at your
master, now’s your time to pole
an 'oss. Likewise remember,
articles left in a fog ain’t so likely
to be mist. If you’ve got a great
coat, now double the cape, or look
out for rheumatics.
December.—The Hact says you
ain't to leave the stand, but you
can keep the pot a bilin’ by makin’
slides on the pavement. If old
gents tumbles down, sarves ’em
right for walking in such weather.
Remember barrels of oysters, and
reasonable luggage, and cod-fish,
should be charged as passengers.
Pretty pickins at the railway
stations; what with turkeys and
■geese, it’s hard if a poor Cabby
can’t drop into a Christmas dinner.
Goose-clubs comes off, and Christ-
mas hoxes at the theaytres; but
avoid the pautymimes, wich
children only reckons two as von,
and fathers o’ families is shocking
bad pay—always ’aggies, and tries
to shove in an odd 'un. In con-
clusion, let Cabbies stick together,
and they ’ll soon make Com-
missioner Matxe turn tail. If
yon goes to church, mind you
prays for Mr. Fitzroy as druv
us to despiration. I wonder where
he expecs to go if hever he gits
into a cab!
A Bootless Joke.—The ready-
made shoe-shops only keep one
size, for each shoe is a font long.
HOW TO PLOT OUT AN
EVENING PARTY.
A Thing Never Seen.—A man
does not grieve so much over the
loss of his hair. He will even [
dispense with the services of a
wig, but you never saw a woman
yet appear in society with a bald
head!!!
The Head and the Heels.—
The highest classical and mathe-
matical attainments may be in-
sufficient to procure any standing '
| in society; but the most ele-
mentary instruction in dancing
I places the student in the first
position.
PRIVATE THEATRICALS.
Dismay of Mr. James Jessamy on being told that he will spoil the Whole Thing ip he doesn’t shave off his Whiskers!
I Sift card-rack for most respect-
! able acquaintances. Frame in-
vitations with lace-borders. Sweep
drawing-room quite clean, and
shoot rubbish into back bed-room.
M ap out an artificial parterre on
floor with chalk. Sow seed for
seed-cake. Gather mustard for
sandwiches. Beat about the bush
for gooseberries, and put them in
bottles, to come up as Champagne.
Order in old man from green-
grocer’s, and put Berlin bags on
his hands for gloves. Buy slip
! for new dress, and gather flowers
in the Burlington Arcade for your
! hair. Put the young twigs in
their beds, hut the elderly plants
' stick in library with cards. Lay
traps for rich young men. Plant
your company in rows and couples,
and set musicians in full blow in
j corner of drawing-room. When
i they are a little faint, water them
i with Sherry. Hang wallflowers
round the room. Dig for com-
pliments, and run up a flirtation j
wherever you can fasten one.
Above all, nail a husband, or else
your plot will be without its
greatest ornament and centre.
LITERAL.
Young Lady. “Pray, Cabman, are you engaged?”
Cabman. “Lor bless yer, Miss, why I’ve bin MARRIED this seven years.”
Unreasonable Butchery.—Critics are not satisfied withau
artist’s picture being hung, drawn, and quartered (in the Royal
Academy), but they must afterwards proceed to cut it up.
Qualification for Lady’s Groom.—As bridegroom, a
young man is preferred who has no character to produce from
any last place.
Outside Philosophy.—A good name for a brilliant su-
perficial Philosopher—one who merely touches on the surface
of things—would be “ Electro-Plato.
MONTHLY MEMS.
By a Cabby.
November.—Fogs this month
may he turned to account in many
ways by the industerous. Always
take time-fares. Yon can always
lose yourself, and the thicker the
fog is, the thicker you can lay it
on. Also, remember fares taking
change can’t see the colour o’ your
money. If you’ve a spite at your
master, now’s your time to pole
an 'oss. Likewise remember,
articles left in a fog ain’t so likely
to be mist. If you’ve got a great
coat, now double the cape, or look
out for rheumatics.
December.—The Hact says you
ain't to leave the stand, but you
can keep the pot a bilin’ by makin’
slides on the pavement. If old
gents tumbles down, sarves ’em
right for walking in such weather.
Remember barrels of oysters, and
reasonable luggage, and cod-fish,
should be charged as passengers.
Pretty pickins at the railway
stations; what with turkeys and
■geese, it’s hard if a poor Cabby
can’t drop into a Christmas dinner.
Goose-clubs comes off, and Christ-
mas hoxes at the theaytres; but
avoid the pautymimes, wich
children only reckons two as von,
and fathers o’ families is shocking
bad pay—always ’aggies, and tries
to shove in an odd 'un. In con-
clusion, let Cabbies stick together,
and they ’ll soon make Com-
missioner Matxe turn tail. If
yon goes to church, mind you
prays for Mr. Fitzroy as druv
us to despiration. I wonder where
he expecs to go if hever he gits
into a cab!
A Bootless Joke.—The ready-
made shoe-shops only keep one
size, for each shoe is a font long.
HOW TO PLOT OUT AN
EVENING PARTY.
A Thing Never Seen.—A man
does not grieve so much over the
loss of his hair. He will even [
dispense with the services of a
wig, but you never saw a woman
yet appear in society with a bald
head!!!
The Head and the Heels.—
The highest classical and mathe-
matical attainments may be in-
sufficient to procure any standing '
| in society; but the most ele-
mentary instruction in dancing
I places the student in the first
position.
PRIVATE THEATRICALS.
Dismay of Mr. James Jessamy on being told that he will spoil the Whole Thing ip he doesn’t shave off his Whiskers!
I Sift card-rack for most respect-
! able acquaintances. Frame in-
vitations with lace-borders. Sweep
drawing-room quite clean, and
shoot rubbish into back bed-room.
M ap out an artificial parterre on
floor with chalk. Sow seed for
seed-cake. Gather mustard for
sandwiches. Beat about the bush
for gooseberries, and put them in
bottles, to come up as Champagne.
Order in old man from green-
grocer’s, and put Berlin bags on
his hands for gloves. Buy slip
! for new dress, and gather flowers
in the Burlington Arcade for your
! hair. Put the young twigs in
their beds, hut the elderly plants
' stick in library with cards. Lay
traps for rich young men. Plant
your company in rows and couples,
and set musicians in full blow in
j corner of drawing-room. When
i they are a little faint, water them
i with Sherry. Hang wallflowers
round the room. Dig for com-
pliments, and run up a flirtation j
wherever you can fasten one.
Above all, nail a husband, or else
your plot will be without its
greatest ornament and centre.
LITERAL.
Young Lady. “Pray, Cabman, are you engaged?”
Cabman. “Lor bless yer, Miss, why I’ve bin MARRIED this seven years.”
Unreasonable Butchery.—Critics are not satisfied withau
artist’s picture being hung, drawn, and quartered (in the Royal
Academy), but they must afterwards proceed to cut it up.
Qualification for Lady’s Groom.—As bridegroom, a
young man is preferred who has no character to produce from
any last place.
Outside Philosophy.—A good name for a brilliant su-
perficial Philosopher—one who merely touches on the surface
of things—would be “ Electro-Plato.