University of Virginia Library


86

THE BILL OF FARE.

BY A COOKSHOPMAN.

I've soups, ragouts, beef boil'd and roast,
And all the joints a sheep can boast,
To tickle taste or smell;
I've legs for dancing-master's fit;
Saddles for those who want a bit;
Rich gravies in the well.
Trotters for those who wish to run
From beadle dread, or noisy dun,
From shrew or devil;
Goose for play critics, hissing hot;
Sauce in abundance too I've got,
Though always civil.
For those stern men of flint and steel,
Who tender pity never feel,
For others' woe or smart;

87

Miserly misanthropic elves,
Whose only care is for themselves,
I offer them a heart!
Mock turtle for false-hearted swains,
Who laugh at ladies' sighs and pains,
Neglected for new flames;
Good hands of pork for all those Jews
Who to turn honest Christians choose;
And tongues for tacit dames.
I've beef dress'd à la mode for bucks,
And for the dandies cut prime ducks,
With stuffing should they lack it;
I've puddings too, so much per platter;
For bruisers, there's my Yorkshire batter,
'Gainst any I will back it!
For Capitalists—men of crumbs!
I've puddings made of choicest plums—
(A plum to them is meet:)
For watermen—of largest size
I've one of currants—which, likewise,
Is much liked in the Fleet.

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To tempt old bachelors to feast,
A spare-rib delicately drest,
I may boast I have got;
In season every thing I seek,
So always in the Passion week,
I've hasty pudding hot.
But in my shop you'll find a store
Of these tid-bits, and many more
Too numerous to tell:
So call for what you will and try;
I've done—yet will not say good bye,
But bid you all—Fare-well!