Dear FRIEND,Since I am now at leisure,And in the Country taking Pleasure,If it be worth your while to hearA silly Footman's Business there,I'll try to tell, in easy Rhyme,How I in London spend my Time.
And first,As soon as Laziness will let me,I rise from Bed, and down I set me,To cleaning Glasses, Knives, and Plate,And such-like dirty Work as that,Which (by the bye) is what I hate.This done; with expeditious Care,To dress myself I strait prepare;I clean my Buckles, black my Shoes;Powder my Wig, and brush my Cloaths;Take off my Beard, and wash my Face,And then I'm ready for the Chace.
Down comes my Lady's Woman strait:Where's Robin? Here. Pray take your Hat,And go -- and go -- and go -- and go -- ;And this -- and that desire to know.The Charge receiv'd, away run I,And here, and there, and yonder fly,With Services, and How-d'ye-does,Then Home return full fraught with News.
Here some short Time does interpose,'Till warm Effluvia's greet my Nose,Which from the Spits and Kettles fly,Declaring Dinner-time is nigh.To lay the Cloth I now prepare,With Uniformity and Care;In Order Knives and Forks are laid,With folded Napkins, Salt, and Bread:The Side-boards glittering too appear,With Plate, and Glass, and China-ware.Then Ale, and Beer, and Wine decanted,And all Things ready which are wanted,The smoaking Dishes enter in,To Stomachs sharp a grateful Scene;Which on the Table being plac'd,And some few Ceremonies past,They all sit down, and fall to eating,Whilst I behind stand silent waiting.
This is the only pleasant HourWhich I have in the Twenty-four;For whilst I unregarded stand,With ready Salver in my Hand,And seem to understand no moreThan just what's call'd for, out to pour;I hear, and mark the courtly Phrases,And all the Elegance that passes;Disputes maintain'd without Digression,With ready Wit, and fine Expression;The Laws of true Politeness stated,And what Good-breeding is, debated:Where all unanimously excludeThe vain Coquet, the formal Prude,The Ceremonious, and the Rude.The flattering, fawning, praising Train;The fluttering, empty, noisy, vain;Detraction, Smut, and what's prophane.
This happy Hour elaps'd and gone,The Time of drinking Tea comes on.The Kettle fill'd, the Water boil'd,The Cream provided, Biscuits pil'd,And Lamp prepar'd; I strait engageThe Lilliputian EquipageOf Dishes, Saucers, Spoons, and Tongs,And all th' Et cetera which thereto belongs.Which rang'd in order and Decorum,I carry in, and set before 'em;Then pour or Green, or Bohea out,And, as commanded, hand about.
This Business over, presentlyThe Hour of visiting draws nigh;The Chairman strait prepare the Chair,A lighted Flambeau I prepare;And Orders given where to go,We march along, and bustle thro'The parting Crouds, who all stand offTo give us Room. O how you'd laugh!To see me strut before a Chair,And with a stirdy Voice, and Air,Crying -- By your Leave, Sir! have a Care!From Place to Place with Speed we fly,And Rat-tatat the Knockers cry:Pray is your Lady, Sir, within?If no, go on; if yes, we enter in.
Then to the Hall I guide my Steps,Amongst a Croud of Brother Skips,Drinking Small-beer, and talking Smut,And this Fool's Nonsence puting that Fool's out.Whilst Oaths and Peals of Laughter meet,And he who's loudest, is the greatest Wit.But here amongst us the chief Trade isTo rail against our Lords and Ladies;To aggravate their smallest Failings,T' expose their Faults with saucy Railings.For my Part, as I hate the Practice,And see in them how base and black 'tis,To some bye Place I therefore creep,And sit me down, and feign to sleep;And could I with old Morpheus bargain,'Twou'd save my Ears much Noise and Jargon.But down my Lady comes again,And I'm released from my Pain.To some new Place our Steps we bend,The tedious Evening out to spend;Sometimes, perhaps, to see the Play,Assembly, or the Opera;Then home and sup, and thus we end the Day.
