Picture of the manager of a theatre in his office, to whom enters a dramatic author. _Author:_ "I have called to know if you have read my play." _Manager:_ "Not yet. It is numbered, in the list of plays received, 792; so that for this year--" _Author:_ "No, sir; nor for that which is to come either." This will suffice for the "Comic Almanac." The _Comic World_ (_El Mundo Cómico_), which next invites attention, is a weekly paper published at Madrid during the last four years. This work, also, has much in common with the wicked world of Paris, as with the wicked world of all countries where the priest feeds the imagination and starves the intellect. This reveling in the illicit and the indecent, which so astonishes us in the popular literature of Catholic countries, is merely a sign of impoverished mind, which is obliged to revolve ceaselessly about the physical facts of our existence, because it is acquainted with so few other facts. The first number of the _Comic World_ presents a colored engraving of a Spanish beauty, attired in the last extremity of the fashion, bonnetless, fan in hand, with high-heeled boots, and a blending of French and Spanish in her make-up, walking in the street unattended. The picture is headed: "In Quest of the Unknown." The next picture shows that Spain, too, has its savings-banks which do not save. Two strolling musicians, clothed in rags, are exhibited, one of whom says to the other: "A pretty situation! While men drive by in a coach after robbing us of our savings deposited in their banks, we ask alms of the robbers!" [Illustration: Inconvenience of the New Collar. "How, my Adela, can you ask me to whisper in your ear when you have put that cover over it?"--From _El Mundo Cómico_, Madrid, 1873.] There is a pair of pictures, one called "The Cocks," and the other "The Pullets." The Cocks are three very young Spanish dandies, with dawning mustaches, extremely thin canes, and all the other puppyisms. The Pullets are three young ladies of similar age and taste. As they pass in the street, one of the Cocks says to his companions: "Do you see how the tallest one blushes?" The reply is: "Yes; when she sees me." At the same moment the Pullets exchange whispers. "How fast you go!" says one. "Don't speak!" says another. "The dark-complexioned one is he whom we saw at the theatre." "Yes, I remember; the one in the box." In these pictures, as in most other Spanish caricatures, the men are meagre and disagreeable-looking, but the ladies are plump and attractive. A "domestic scene" follows, which must be peculiar to Spain, one would think. A gay young husband, on leaving home in the evening, is addressed by his wife, who has a hand in his waistcoat-pocket: "You carry away twelve dollars and three shillings. We will see what extraordinary expense you incur to-night."