The Every-day Book and Table Book. v. 2 (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 — John Shaqi
The Every-day Book and Table Book. v. 2 (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. 2 (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
At this season, from six o’clock in the evening, a full tide of
passengers sets in along every leading street to each of the theatres.
Hackney coaches drawl, and cabriolets make their way, and jostle each
other, and private carriages swiftly roll, and draw up to the box door
with a vigorous sweep, which the horses of hired vehicles are too aged,
or too low in condition to achieve. Within a hundred yards of either
playhouse, hands are continually thrust into each coach window, with “a
bill of the play,” and repeated cries of “only a penny!” The coachdoor
being opened, down fall the steps with a sharp clackity-clack-click, and
the companies alight, if they can, without the supernumerary aid of
attendant pliers, who offer their over-ready arms to lean upon, and
kindly entreat--“Take care, sir!--mind how you step ma’am--this way if
you please--this way,” all against your will, and ending with “I hope
you’ll please to remember a poor fellow!” the “poor fellow” having done
nothing but interrupt you. When past the “pay place,” great coats,
umbrellas, shawls or other useful accompaniments to and from “the
house,” though real encumbrances within it, may be safely deposited with
persons stationed for their reception, who attach tickets to them, and
deliver corresponding numbers, which ensure the return of your property
on your coming out; sixpence or a shilling being a gratuity for the
accommodation. Then, when the whole is over, there is the strict
blockade of coaches further than the eye can reach; servants looking out
for the parties they came with, and getting up their masters’ carriages;
and a full cry of hackney coachmen and their representatives,
vociferating “Want a coach, sir? Here’s your coach, sir! Which is it,
sir? Coach to the city, sir! West end, sir! Here! Coach to the city!
Coach to Whitechapel! Coach to Portman-square! Coach to Pentonville!
Coach to the Regent’s Park! This way! this way! Stand clear there!
Chariot, or a coach, sir? No chariots, sir, and all the coaches are
hired! There’s a coach here, sir--just below! Coachman, draw up!” and
drawing up is impossible, and there is an incessant confusion of calls
and complaints, and running against each other, arising out of the
immediate wants of every body, which can only be successively gratified.
Pedestrians make their way home, or to the inns, as fast as possible, or
turn in to sup at the fish-shops, which, in five minutes, are more
lively than their oysters were at any time. “Waiter! Waiter! Yes, sir!
Attend to you directly, sir! Yours is gone for, sir! Why, I’ve ordered
nothing! It’s coming directly, sir! Ginger-beer--why this is poison!
Spruce--why this is ginger-beer! Porter, sir! I told you brandy and
water! Stewed oysters! I ordered scolloped! When am I to have _my_
supper? You’ve had it, sir--I beg your pardon, sir, the gentleman that
sat here is gone, sir! Waiter! waiter!” and so on; and he who has
patience, is sure to be indulged with an opportunity of retaining it,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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