_s._ _d._ Burgundy, a bottle 6 0 Champagne 8 0 Frontiniac 6 0 Claret 5 0 Old hock, with or without sugar 5 0 Two pound of ice 6 Rhenish and sugar 2 6 Mountain 2 6 Red port 2 0 Sherry 2 0 Cyder 1 0 Table beer, a quart mug 4 A chicken 2 6 A dish of ham 1 0 A dish of beef 1 0 Salad 6 A cruet of oil 4 Orange or lemon 3 Sugar for a bottle 6 Ditto for a pint 3 A slice of bread 1 Ditto of butter 2 Ditto of cheese 2 A tart 1 0 A custard 4 A cheese cake 4 A heart cake 2 A Shrewsbury cake 2 A quart of Arrack 8 0 When Tyers leased the gardens in 1728 there was in the dwelling-house a “Ham Room,” so that this famous Vauxhall viand must have been already in request. The thinness of the slices was proverbial. A journal of 1762, for instance, complains that you could read the newspaper through a slice of Tyers’s ham or beef. A certain carver, hardly perhaps mythical, readily obtained employment from the proprietor when he promised to cut a ham so thin that the slices would cover the whole garden like a carpet of red and white. The chickens were of diminutive size. Mr. Rose, the old citizen in _The Connoisseur_ (15 May, 1755), found them no bigger than a sparrow and exclaimed at every mouthful: “There goes twopence--there goes threepence--there goes a groat ... why it would not have cost me above fourpence halfpenny to have spent my evening at Sot’s Hole.” Chicken, ham and beef remained the staple of Vauxhall fare, but from about 1822 onwards the chicken cost four shillings instead of the half-crown, at which the old citizen had grumbled. Ham remained steady at one shilling a plate, and was cut no thicker. Thackeray speaks of “the twinkling boxes in which the happy feasters made believe to eat slices of almost invisible ham.”