_Practical_ jokes sometimes distinguished the manners of the Citizens of London: those were generally innocent, and generally very silly; but one of a contrary description marked the Autumn of the year just mentioned. A well-dressed man rode down the King's road from Fulham at a most furious rate, commanding each turnpike-gate to be thrown open, as he was a Messenger, conveying the news of the Queen's sudden death. The alarm instantly spread into every quarter of the City; the Trained-bands, who were on their parade, desisted from their exercise, furled their colours, and returned home with their arms reversed. The shop-keepers began to collect sables; when the jest was discovered, but not the author of it. The following ballad gives a pleasant review of the customs, or, if you please, fashions of the Citizens, previous to 1737, in care of their health: "On fashions a ditty I mean to indite, Since surely you'll own, 'tis the fashion to write: And, if you don't like it, then e'en lay it down, The fashion is not to be scar'd with a frown. To fashion our healths, as our figures, we owe; And, while 'twas the fashion to _Tunbridge_ to go, Its waters ne'er fail'd us, let ail us what wou'd; It cemented crack'd bones, and it sweeten'd the blood. When Fashion resolv'd to raise _Epsom_ to fame, Poor _Tunbridge_ did nought: but the blind or the lame, Or the sick or the healthy, 'twas equally one, By _Epsom's_ assistance their business was done. _Bath's_ springs next in fashion came rapidly on, And out-did by far whate'er _Epsom_ had done; There the gay and the sullen found instant relief, And the sighing young widow was eas'd of her grief. Unrival'd by any, _Bath_ flourish'd alone, And fail'd not to cure in gout, colic, or stone, Till _Scarborough_ waters, by secret unknown, Stole all the fam'd qualities _Bath_ thought her own. Ev'n _Islington_ waters, _though close to the Town_, By Fashion one Summer were brought to renown; Where we flock'd in such numbers, that for a supply, We almost had tippled the _New-river dry_. It late was the fashion by _Ward_ to be cur'd; And his pill mov'd the cause on't, whate'er we endur'd; While every eye saw on which _Taylor_ laid hand, And no cripple _Mapp_ touch'd, but could instantly stand. But since 'tis the fashion to banter their skill, Our eyes are relaps'd, and we're worse for the pill; Our joints are contracted, our anguish so sore, We fly to the Doctors we laugh'd at before."