Such meddling sure was never known, We wish we could be left alone; Why could they not contented rest With placing badges on our breast? There's none that could with patience bear His heart upon his sleeve to wear But we are taken by the throats, Made to unbosom on our coats; And the conductors' badge must be The badge of shameful slavery. But now another act they've passed, More cruel even than the last; It says we shall not dare to race But only go a certain pace. Oh! have we not been always taught That racing is a noble sport? Unless with energy we drive, Our horses can't be kept alive. But Parliament goes on to say We shall not loiter on the way 'Twixt one and t'other can we know The rate at which we ought to go? 'Tis hard to say, 'twixt this and that What Parliament is driving at. And then—'tis quite beyond a joke, We're even not allowed to smoke; What right has Parliament to say That fashion's laws we shan't obey? They'll tell us next, 'tis like enough, They will not have us up to snuff; 'Tis most unjust to treat us thus, And be so busy with each bus! THE COMIC ALMANACK FOR 1845. A SHORT TREATISE ON TIDES. The tides have baffled the ingenuity of some of our greatest philosophers, though Halley was more successful than any one else in his attempts to get to the bottom of them. If we were disposed to go deeply into the tides, we should require the reader to follow us through a variety of mysterious hieroglyphics, which we are sure would be unintelligible to the majority. Dashes, crosses, circles, and triangles would be scattered over the perplexing page in profusion, while the only result might be, that as 0 is to a hyphen, so would be a couple of asterisks. We, therefore, prefer leaving the study of the tides to those whose taste for the subject would lead them to a practical acquaintance with it, which may be picked up anywhere up or down the river. THE ECLIPSES FOR 1845. On the 6th of May there will be an eclipse of the sun; but whose son it is to be the almanack does not mention. On the 24th of March there will be a total eclipse of the moon, only visible in London. A rabid leader will appear in the "_Nationale_," and the feelings of the editor will quite run away with him, on account of Paris being eclipsed on this occasion by _le perfide_ London.