_Rig. Fun._ That's done already; for to me 'twas plain, An ass you were, and ever would remain. _Moore._ Avaunt! I'll speak no more to ears profane. [_The scene openeth, and discovereth the Shade of the great Astrologer_, LILLY, _enveloped in a fog, who claspeth_ FRANCIS MOORE _in his arms, and mizzleth off with him in a mist_.—_N.B. The renowned_ PHYSICIAN _droppeth his threadbare mantle, which falleth on_ RIGDUM FUNNIDOS, _who maketh his exit therewith joyfully_. ┌────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┬────────────┐ │ JANUARY. │ [1835.│ ├─────────────┬──────────────────────────────────────────┴────────────┤ │ │When you first go to bathe, gentle Sir, in a river, │ │ │If you dip in one foot, it will give you a shiver; │ │ │But if you've the pluck to plunge in your whole body, │ │ │You'll not shiver at all, you poor timid noddy! │ │ │Just so with my rhymes,—I've got thro' my first │ │ │ trouble: │ │ │Had I stood shilly-shally, my toil had been double. │ ├──┬──────────┼──────────────────────────────────────────┬────────────┤ │ M│ Season's │ =Odd Matters.= │ WEATHER. │ │ D│ Signs. │ │ │ ├──┼──────────┼──────────────────────────────────────────┼────────────┤ │ 1│toes │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ 2│nose │ COMFORTS OF THE SEASON. │ Weather │ │ │ │ │ │ │ 3│froze │Chilblains sore on all your toes, │ likely │ │ │ │Icicles hang from your nose │ │ │ 4│blue │Rheumatis' in all your limbs; │ ☍ ☌ △ ♄ │ │ │ │Noddle full of aches and whims; │ │ │ 5│who │Chaps upon your hands and lips, │ to be │ │ │ │And lumbago in your hips. │ │ │ 6│you │To your bed you shiv'ring creep, │ cold │ │ │ │There to freeze, but not to sleep; │ │ │ 7│ice │For the sheets, that look so nice, │ │ │ │ │Are to you two sheets of ice; │ □ ♃ △ ♂ │ │ 8│trice │Wearied out, at length you doze, │ │ │ │ │And snatch, at last, a brief repose, │ if │ │ 9│down │Dream all night that you're a dab, │ │ │ │ │Lying on fishmonger's slab. │ │ │10│crown │While indulging in a snore, │ the frost │ │ │ │There comes a rap at chamber door; │ │