Ye wives and ye widows! here's plenty of bidders; Come hither, and each get a swain for herself; To deck yourselves gaily, and grace the Old Bailey, The pawnbrokers' shops will lend plenty of pelf. Ye youth of the city! ye servant-maids pretty! Ye unmarried damsels with characters rare! Come here and be jolly, for virtue's a folly; So, come and be ruin'd at BARTLEMY FAIR. ┌────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┬────────────┐ │ MARCH. │ [1836.│ ├─────────────┬──────────────────────────────────────────┴────────────┤ │ │Some ready cash Dick wants to borrow │ │ │ About this time—perhaps for rent; │ │ │But like most folks, he finds with sorrow │ │ │ He's just too late—it's always _Lent_. │ ├──┬──────────┼──────────────────────────────────────────┬────────────┤ │ M│ Season's │ =Odd Matters.= │ WEATHER. │ │ D│ Signs. │ │ │ ├──┼──────────┼──────────────────────────────────────────┼────────────┤ │ 1│Blowing │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ 2│growing │ "DAY AND NIGHT EQUAL." │ although │ │ │ │ │ │ │ 3│here's a │ 'Tis SIX O'CLOCK;—and now the Sun │ ☊ ♅ ♌ ♑ │ │ │ │His daily course begins to run; │ │ │ 4│clatter! │While Folly's children slink away, │ somewhat │ │ │ │Like bats who dread the glare of day, │ │ │ 5│what the │From Masquerade or Fancy Ball, │ clumsy │ │ │ │Where pleasure reign'd in Fashion's Hall; │ │ │ 6│deuce │And sneak along, like guilty creatures, │ │ │ │ │With tir'd limbs and haggard features. │ │ │ 7│can be │ │ ♄ ☉ ♊ ♃ ☌ │ │ │ │ The sons of toil, as they come near 'em,│ │ │ 8│the │With coarse-spun jokes begin to jeer 'em; │ withal, │ │ │ │While, _au contraire_, each motley hero, │ │ │ 9│matter? │Whose wit is now far under zero, │ │ │ │ │With 'not a gibe to mock their grinning,' │ │ │10│tiles │Has but a sorry chance of winning. │ ♏ ♐ ♀ ♎ │ │ │ │ │ │ │11│and │ The Clown, with phiz so dull and sad, │ do fit me │ │ │ │Looks grave as Ghost of Hamlet's Dad; │ │ │12│chimney │And Falstaff, now he's lost his stuffing, │ with │ │ │ │Looks lean as lath, and pale as muffin; │ │