The Every-Day Book; Or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastime, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs, and Events, Incident to Each Of
General Books LLC, 2012 - 492 pages
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1827 edition. Excerpt: ...on so gloomily that no man could discover his hand a yard before him, our waterman, whether by design or accident we cannot pretend to $ay, .mistook the Thames, and rowed up the Yenlet creek. After a long, cold, and stubborn pull, protesting at the time he had never (man or boy) seen any thing so dismal, he landed us-near Saint Mary's, that church yonder, with the very lofty and white spire, and then led us to an alehouse, the sign of which he called the Red Cock and Cucumber, and the aleman he hailed by the merry name of John Piper, And a very pleasant fellow John turned out to be; if he was a little hyperbolical, his manner sufficiently atoned for the transgression. The gloom of the day was soon forgotten, and the stench arising from filthy swamps less regarded. At our entrance we complained heavily of the insupportable cloud with which we had been enveloped. "Ha! ha! ha 1" sang out the landlord, "to be sure it is too thick to be eaten with a spoon, and too thin to be cut with a knife, but it is not so intolerable as a scolding wife, or a hungry lawyer." Curse the fog," cried our waterman, "Bless the fog," answered our landlord, " for it has made a man of me for life." "How do you make that appear?' we requested to know. "Set you down, sir, by a good sea-coal fire, for we pay no pool duties here, take your grog merrily, and III tell you all about it presently," rejoined the tapster, when drawing a wooden stool towards us, white his wife was preparing the bowl, John Piper thus began: --"You must know, sir, I was born in this fog, and so was my mother and her relatives for many past generations; there fore you will see, sir, a fog is as natural to me as a duck-pool to a dab-chick....
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