The Every-day Book and Table Book, v. 1 (of 3): or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Month, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the AlmanacHone, William
History
The Every-day Book and Table Book, v. 1 (of 3): or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Month, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the Almanac
Hone, William
Days; Great Britain -- Social life and customs
In January, 1784, died suddenly in Macclesfield-street, Soho, aged 79,
Sam. Crisp, esq., a relation of the celebrated sir Nicholas Crisp.
There was a remarkable singularity in the character of this gentleman.
He was a bachelor, had been formerly a broker in ’Change-alley, and many
years since had retired from business, with an easy competency. His
daily amusement, for fourteen years before, was going from London to
Greenwich, and immediately returning from thence, in the stage; for
which he paid regularly £27 a year. He was a good-humoured, obliging,
and facetious companion, always paying a particular attention, and a
profusion of compliments, to the ladies, especially to those who were
agreeable. He was perpetually projecting some little schemes for the
benefit of the public, or, to use his own favourite maxim, pro bono
publico; he was the institutor of the Lactarium in St. George’s Fields,
and selected the Latin mottoes for the facetious Mrs. Henniver, who got
a little fortune there. He projected the mile and half stones round
London; and teased the printers of newspapers into the plan of
letter-boxes. He was remarkably humane and benevolent, and, without the
least ostentation, performed many generous and charitable actions, which
would have dignified a more ample fortune.
THE WINTER ROBIN.
A suppliant to your window comes,
Who trusts your faith, and fears no guile:
He claims admittance for your crumbs,
And reads his passport in your smile.
For cold and cheerless is the day,
And he has sought the hedges round;
No berry hangs upon the spray,
Nor worm, nor ant-egg, can be found.
Secure his suit will be preferred,
No fears his slender feet deter;
For sacred is the household bird
That wears the scarlet stomacher.
_Charlotte Smith._
~January 15.~
_St. Paul_, the first Hermit. _St. Maurus._ _St. Main._ _St. John_,
Calybite. _St. Isidore._ _St. Bonitus._ _St. Ita_, or _Mida._ _St.
Paul_, A. D. 342.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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