———Votum, Timor, Iræ, Voluptas,
Gandia, Discursus, nostri, Farrago Libelli.
Juvenal.
html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }When lovely Cælia had resign'd
The dear Delights of Womankind,
And could, without Reluctance, see
The Powers of Talk-inspiring Tea,
Imperial in its last Decay
Glad Mrs. Betty's harmless Prey;
When all the Fountains that supply
The Pools of rich Quadrille were dry,
And each promiscuous Fish was seen
Stretch'd on the Pearl-bespangled Green;
When Phœbus had consign'd his Pow's
To a mild Evening's cooler Hour,
And lent the Jewels of his Light
T' adorn the Empress of the Night,
'Twas solemnly agreed upon
By Mary Cook, and Butler John,
That Supper in the Parlour shou'd be
With Expedition vast as cou'd be;
For Master with Delay was hungry,
And Mistress with Impatience angry.
Swift as the Word the Cloth, was laid,
And all was hush'd while Grace was said,
When Silence once again gave Way
To bring Discourse again in Play.
"But, Sir, if these Accounts are true,
The Dutch have mighty Things in View;
The Austrians———I admire French-Beans,
Dear Maem, above all Sorts of Greens,———
They say the Prussian Schemes are quash'd———
Oh Maem, 'tis admirably hash'd———
Some Pepper—and hear Argyle———
A little Vinegar and Oil———
But that, perhaps, is all a Jest, Sir———
Maem, which you please-which you like best, Sir-
I think green Peas———if understood
The Grand Duke's Schemes———are lovely good
Mix'd, Mr. John———will humble France———
Sir, your good Health———but that's a Chance———
Miss Harriot's vastly grown, Maem———why,
So her Papa thinks———Mrs. Fry
Is out of Patience———Maem a Piece
Of Sturgeon———with her little Niece,
They're both Year's Children—John, some Bread—
But Harriot's taller by the Head.
She came from School, stay let me see,
I think 'twas———Almond Flummery,
Venture to taste it, Mr. Sear———
The Night that Garrick play'd King Lear.
Oh, I remember!———Dearest Maem, let
Me help you———when he acted Hamlet
My Sister Ashburnham had on
Her Pink and Silver———Hark'ee, John———
And some rude Rabble from the Gallery———
The Soup tastes delicate of Celery———
Threw God knows what upon her Sleeve———
She's got it out, Ma'em, I perceive.———
Oh, no, Ma'em, she was forc'd to buy
(Your humble Servant, Dr. Dry)
A whole new Breadth———we had such Sport———
Of Mrs. Vokes in Old Round Court.
Dear Mrs. Chatwell, have you heard———
To me a Teal's a better Bird———
How Mrs. Branche's Cause goes on?
A little Water, Mr. John———
O! Mrs. Branche! I can't abide her———
Pray, Mr. James, a Glass of Cyder.
Some say———a little Butter mix'd
With Capers———she is so unfix'd,
She can't———eats most delightful in it———
Continue in a Mind one Minute.———
No! Carp, Maem, is———and so we see———
Above all Sorts of Fish to me———
A Triflingness———You knew Tom's Wife———
In every Action of her Life———
Tom Branche's Wife I knew———another
Potatoe if you please———and Mother.
His Mother———Mr. Oldham speaks,
John, don't you hear?———within three Weeks
After———These Eggs I always poach———
Was overturn'd in York Stage-Coach———
And Mrs. Mixon, as for her———
Miss, your good Health, Maem, your's, good Sir,—
She went to Perth———poor Soul, it cry'd,
And ran to me———and there she dy'd———
Poor little Soul! Maem, some of those———
And did it hurt its little Nose!———
Yes, Maem, it bled———I chuse a Wing,
Sir, you are quite———like any Thing.
But Doctor, if the noble Duke———
Take out that Skew'r there to the Cook———
Shou'd trounce Monsieur, I'm bold to say———
A little Sweet-Bread, Mrs. Day———
That 'tis impossible the Dutch———
Maem, if you please, not quite so much———
Refuse t'assist———Yes, Maem, but Spices
Improve it vastly———at this Crisis.———
Good gracious! He's a dreadful Jobster———
Maem, I prefer one Inch of Lobster———
He piec'd my Habit all in Dabs———
At any Time to twenty Crabs———
Oh! I'd forgot———they're lovely Rabbits,
Dear Maem!———but now you mention Habits,
Miss Drawbridge—Your good Health, Miss Perkin—.
Has got the fearful'st, frightful'st Jerkin,
It looks so tarnish'd and so old———
Miss Jewkes, I hope you've caught no Cold———
No, not at all, Maem—Fetch the Cheese in———
Snuff always did set me a sneezing———
The Association's form'd we hear———
John, mix a little Ale and Beer———
Why, really, Maem—your Health, Miss Bayes—
Folks talk on't many different Ways———
Tho' 'tis a Case that I'm no Judge in———
Maem, I'm prodigious fond of Gudgeon———
But apt to prate———they're fine stew'd Pears———
At such a Juncture of Affairs.
Dear Maem, you've heard how 'Squire Bodling—
My Daughter Ford admires a Codling———
It rain'd so dreadful cou'd not go,
He and Miss James, and Mrs. Sloe,
So far as Tewksbury last Week———
Sure, John, you heard Miss Idle speak!
You saw Miss Drawbridge, Maem, last Sunday?
Yes, Maem, I did! and Mrs. Munday
Had lost her Parrot———Pray, Maem, how?
I really, Maem, can't tell, I vow———
I pity'd the poor Creature's Fate———
Give Mrs. Dykes a China Plate———
But poor Miss Drawbridge will run wild———
No, Maem, our Cream is always boil'd———
For our Part, Maem, I can't but say
We all———make Haste and take away———
Are mighty fond of Slip-slops———bring
The Wine and Fruits—Maem, Church and King—
}Miss, shall I help you? Sir, I beg———
Sir, there's enough———Maem, Sister Peg
Is well, but George has hurt his Leg:
My Aunt was in a vehement Fright———
His left Leg, Maem—No, Maem, his right———
Poor Master Georgy!———Maem, I hope———
No, Maem, he's with my Uncle Cope,
And is as lively and as brisk
As———Maem do you chuse a Game at Whisk?