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The Comic Almanack, Volume 2: An Ephemeris in Jest and Earnest, Containing Merry Tales, Humerous Poetry, Quips, and Oddities — David Hume — John Shaqi

The Comic Almanack, Volume 2: An Ephemeris in Jest and Earnest, Containing Merry Tales, Humerous Poetry, Quips, and Oddities

David Hume · en

But property, while it possesses its beauties,
        Is burdened not only with rights but with duties.
        It well may be said that the strongest of backs
        Is bent with the weight of the Property Tax.
        "Ten Thousand a Year" is expected to sport
        A carriage of every conceivable sort;
        A britschka, a Clarence, landau, and pilentum,
        He must purchase as fast as the makers invent 'em.
        Each vehicle fashion compels him to take,
        Till "Ten Thousand a Year" is reduced to a break.
        Of lazy domestics, in liv'ry and out,
        A tribe must be kept to be lounging about,
        On wages exorbitant, though, it is true,
        They've nothing on earth—but their master—to do.
        The larder, as well as the pockets, they clear:
        'Tis part of the tax on "Ten Thousand a Year."

        The blessings of wealth would be given in vain
        To one who'd not swim all his friends in champagne:
        His dinners must needs be the talk of the season,
        As feasts of whate'er can be thought of—but reason.
        As a liveried lacquey, perchance, there may wait
        Some usurer, having a lien on the plate;
        Who will not allow it to pass from his sight,
        Although to its owner 'tis lent for the night:
        The usurer gracefully keeps in the rear,
        Not to mar the effect of "Ten Thousand a Year."

        Then balls must be given the _salons_ to fill,
        And ruin be met in a graceful quadrille:
        'Tis sweet e'en on bankruptcy's margin to stand,
        While lulled with the music of Collinet's band.
        Such luxuries can't be accounted as dear
        By one who's possessed of "Ten Thousand a Year."

        Without a town mansion, a park, and a seat,
        The rich man's establishment is not complete;
        But still on an annual tour he must roam;
        His house must on no account serve for his home:
        For servants, its comforts may do very well;
        He must wander abroad to some foreign hotel:
        When the season is over, in town to appear
        Would be _très mauvais goût_ of "Ten Thousand a Year."

        Extravagant family, daughters and sons,
        With distant connections who pester like duns,
        On the strength of the fact that their wealthy relation
        Can't suffer their wants to reflect on his station—
        The family's dignity, honour, and pride;
        And many a heavy encumbrance beside,
        Of which but a few on the surface appear—
        All make up the tax on "Ten Thousand a Year."


                         MONTHLY OBSERVATIONS.

The depth of rain may be ascertained by placing a common stick in an
ordinary puddle; or, to walk into one will answer the same purpose. If
there should be ice in your water-jug, Moore says, "Look for its
continuance;" but we say, "Look for something to break it, and put an
end to it." If there is much fog, it will be useless to look for
anything.