But it was the footman of that age, and indeed of the whole of the early Georgian era, who was the perpetual butt of the satirist--probably not without reason. 'There's nothing we Beaus take more Pride in than a Sett of Genteel Footmen. I never have any but what wear their own Hair, and I allow 'em a Crown a Week for Gloves and Powder; if one shouldn't, they'd Steal horridly to set themselves out, for now, not one in ten is without a Watch, and a nice Snuff Box with the best Orangerie; and the Liberty of the Upper Gallery, has made 'em so confounded pert, that, as they wait behind one at Table, they'll either put in their Word, or Mimick a body, and People must bear with 'em or else pay 'em their Wages.'[95] Steele, of course, could not resist such a tempting theme for his pen, and, consequently, devotes a whole _Spectator_ (No. 88) to footmen. He says: 'They are but in a lower Degree what their Masters themselves are; and usually affect an Imitation of their Manners; and you have in Liveries, Beaux, Fops, and Coxcombs, in as high perfection, as among People that keep Equipages. It is a common Humour among the Retinue of People of Quality, when they are in their Revels, that is when they are out of their Master's Sight, to assume in a humourous Way the Names and Titles of those whose Liveries they wear.' [Footnote 95: _Tunbridge Walks_, ed. 1703.] Indeed, the footmen of that age must have had a good time of it, for the custom of feeing them, or, as it was called, of giving them 'vails,' was very prevalent. It got worse later on--indeed, it became such a nuisance that it was obliged to be stopped. Yet even now it has to be done, like feeing waiters. Certainly their wages were not great. 'I love punctual Dealings, Sir; Now my Wages comes to at Six Pound per Annum, Thirty two Pounds the Five Years and four Months, the odd Week two Shillings Sixpence, the two Hours one halfpenny,' etc.[96] This, certainly, even at the then enhanced value of money, was not a great yearly wage, and to a certain extent must plead excuse for the custom of giving vails. As a rule they were treated like dogs by their masters, and were caned mercilessly for very trivial faults. They were very far from being faultless, and Swift's man Patrick seems to have been a specimen of his kind. How humorously Swift used to describe his faults to Stella! how he was always going to get rid of him, and never did! [Footnote 96: _The Perplexed Lovers_, by Mrs. Centlivre, ed. 1712.]