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

by William Hone

March 28.

Easter Tuesday.

Formerly, “in the Easter holidays, was the Clarke’s-ale for his private benefit, and the solace of the neighbourhood.”[115] Our ancestors were abundant drinkers; they had their “bride-ales,” “church-ales,” and other sort of ales, and their feats of potation were so great as to be surprising to their posterity; the remainder of whom, in good time, shall be more generally informed of these regular drinking bouts. “Easter-ale” was not always over with Easter week. Excessive fasting begat excessive feasting, and there was no feast in old times without excessive drinking. A morning head-ache from the contents of the tankard was cured by “a hair of the same dog,”—a phrase well understood by hard-drinkers, signifying that madness from drinking was to be cured by the madness of drinking again. It is in common use with drinkers of punch.

---

Some of the days in this month seem

“For talking age and youthful lovers made.”

The genial breezes animate declining life, and waft “visions of glory” to those who are about to travel the journey of existence on their own account. In the following lines, which, from the “Lady’s Scrap Book,” whence they were extracted, appear to have been communicated to her on this day, by a worthy old gentleman “of the old school,” there is a touch of satirical good humour, that may heighten cheerfulness.

No Flattery

From J. M—— Esq.
To Miss H—— W——.
March 28, 1825.

I never said thy face was fair,
Thy cheeks with beauty glowing;
Nor whispered that thy woodland air
With grace was overflowing.

I never said thy teeth were white,
In hue were snow excelling;
Nor called thine eye, so blue, so bright,
Young Love’s celestial dwelling.

I never said thy voice so soft,
Soft heart but ill concealing;
Nor praised thy sparkling glances oft,
So well thy thoughts revealing.

I never said thy taper form
Was, Hannah, more than handsome;
Nor said thy heart, so young, so warm,
Was worth a monarch’s ransom.

I never said to young or old
I felt no joy without thee:
No, Hannah, no, I never told
A single lie about thee.

---