1830. [THIS year was the first year of the "Comic Annual "—the most popular of all my father's undertakings. The first volume was dedicated to Sir Francis Freeling, and was ushered in by a humorous preface. All the papers written for it by my father were subsequently reprinted in "Hood's Own." As it is not intended to incorporate the two volumes of "Hood's Own" with this edition-of which they are to form a part as they stand-the "Comic" will be represented here only by its Preface.] THE COMIC ANNUAL FOR 1830. DEDICATION. To SIR FRANCIS FREELING, BART., The great Patron of Letters, Foreign, General, and Twopenny, Distinguished alike by his fostering care of the Bell Letters, and his Antiquarian regard for the Dead Letters; Whose increasing efforts to forward the spread of Intelligence, (and no man fills his Post better,) Have singly, doubly, and trebly endeared him to every class- PREFACE. IN the Christmas holidays-or rather holly days, according to one of the emblems of the season-we naturally look f mirth. Christmas is strictly a Comic Annual, and its specific gaiety is even implied in the specific gravity of its oxen. There is an English proverb of "laugh and grow fat," a saying which our graziers interpret-on the authority of some Prize Oxonian-by growing the fattest of fat for the merriest of months. The proverb, however, has another sense, implying a connection between cachinnation and corpulence in the human body; and truly, having seen gentlemen of twenty-stone in their seats, I am ready to allow that a fat man is always a cheerful. Taking the adage in the latter sense, it is my humble hope and aim to contribute towards the laughter and lustiness of my fellow-creatures, by the production of the "Comic Annual,"-a work not equivocating between mirth and melancholy, but exclusively devoted to the humorousin plain French, not an "Ambigu," but an "Opéra Comique." Christmas indeed seems a tide more adapted for rowing in the gig or the jolly than tugging in the barge or the galley, and accordingly I have built my craft. The kind friends who may patronise my present launch are assured that it will be acknowledged by renewed exertion, and that I seriously intend to come before them next year, with "A braver bark, and an increasing sail." The materials which were in preparation for a Third Series of "Whims and Oddities" have been thrown into the present volume-that work may, therefore, be still considered as going on, though its particular name is not exhibited-but it is a partner in the Comic Firm. Each future Series will in the same manner be associated with the whims and oddities of other authors; and it will be my endeavour to feed every succeeding volume with the choicest morsels that can be procured, in short, the work will be Pampered-like Captain Head. In the meantime many little defects, incidental to a first attempt, will be observed and pointed out by judicious critics;-to whom, consciously and respectfully, I bow, like Norval, "with bended bow and quiver full of errors ;" merely hoping, timidly, that as second thoughts are allowed to be best, they will deal mildly with my first ones. In my illustrations, as usual, preferring wood to copper or steel, I have taken to box as the medium for making hits. For some of the designs I am indebted to private friends, and in particular to one highly talented lady, who has liberally allowed me to draw upon her drawings, and with an unusual zeal for my wood-cuts, has, I may say, devoted her head to the block. It is difficult to return thanks for such deeds, but I feel deeply indebted to the kindness by which her pencil was led. I am under a similar obligation to several pens, justly deserving the title of "good office pens" from the friendly nature of their service. Of the President of the Royal Academy, his Fellows and Associates, I humbly beg pardon for any offences against the rules of their art. My pretensions are modest-I only profess to blacklead a little, and not to blacklead the great -I presume merely to handle a small slip of pencil, and not to wield, like them, the cedars of Lebanon. The literary critics are requested to look upon the letter-press in the same spirit, and to remember, before killing "The Comic," that it is, as the late giraffe, "the only one of its kind in England." The work, indeed, at present, is like the celebrated elephant that had no rival but himself. If, however, others of the kind should spring up, all the Editor wishes for is an open field and fair play. [In 1830 my father published a series of Comic Melodies, which consisted of songs written for the Entertainment of Mathews and Yates. The motto on the cover of each number was "A doleful song a doleful look retraces, And merry music maketh merry faces." Over this was a comic illustration of the lines, consisting of some musical notes, the heads of which were filled in with laughing and grimacing countenances.] THE SHIP LAUNCH. SUNG BY MR. MATHEWS IN THE ENTERTAINMENT CALLED "THE SPRING MEETING." WORDS BY THOMAS HOOD, ESQ. MUSIC BY 8. BLEWITT. Now, my dear now Tommy-mind your footing!-Boat sir! oars! Boat for the launch !-Now, Mr. B., I insist you look at the watermen's sleeves; I'll go with none but regular badgers-Pooh, pooh, pooh !-Don't pooh, pooh me; I have my fears of wherries, and they may be werified /-Here you are, sir!-I say, I had my finger in the gemman's eye afore you! *This monopolylogue, spoken by Mathews, is supposed to be sustained by several characters, sufficiently distinguishable not to need indication individually. This here's the boat, ma'am, the prize wherry! You'll be upset in his'n, he was a turn-over in his 'prenticeship!—You row! you've no more row in you nor a shotten 'erring !— Shove off, Bill!—Mr. B., do look at those watermen. How can their backs see what's before 'em?-Pooh, pooh, pooh! Civil men, don't like to turn their backs on the fare!Mamma, look how I'm rowing our ship!—A little wretch; take your hand out of the water directly!-Mr. B., do look to that child; he'll he drown'd in his best clothes!—Ax pardon, sir, d'ye see that 'ere opening; them's the new Catherine Docks's.-Ah, I don't like new docks in opposition to old docks; they are not orthodox.-Where's the Tunnel ?-Just over and above it, sir; but it can't proceed for want of proceeds; half their outgoings was spent in stopping the comings in -Bless me, there's an 'ulk !-Ax pardon, maʼam, but that 'ere's the Hark; a wessel dewoted to seafaring parsons for pious porpuses. T'other's the tender.--Papa, why is it called the tender ?-Pooh, pooh! Don't you know? It's called the tender because it tenders its services in pressing emergencies.—Waterman, where are we now?-Nigh Blackwall's end, ma'am.-Well, I never knew Wallsend of any other colour!—Now, Mrs. B., look this way, I'll show you a view worth seeing. You see that pint of land; well, you see four black things on it; well, they're four men hanging !— Hanging! Dear me! What for?-Waterman, do you know why those four men are supported by chains on the suspension principle?-For sinking their own wessel, sir. It was loaded with coals and they scuttled it!-Oh, papa! What place is this?-Pooh, pooh! Don't you know it? Why, it's either Green-wich or Wool-wich, I don't know which.-Ax your pardon, sir, but it's neither on 'em; it's Grinnage. So it is. My dear, hold up the child to see the hospital! -There, Tommy, in that noble edifice naval valour has a |