The teaspoons numbered and the tea filled out;
Though patience fails, and though with thirst he burns,
All, all must wait till the last cup returns.
The silver strainer had apparently become obsolete in Sir Walter Scott’s day, for he writes in St. Ronan’s Well:
“A silver strainer, in which in times more economical than our own, the lady of the house placed the tea-leaves after the very last drop had been exhausted, that they might hospitably be divided among the company to be eaten with bread and butter.”
The Scots are a hardy race.
In lieu of the strainer a long-handled spoon with pierced bowl was used to thrust down the spout, as sometimes the tea refused to pour out. Etiquette forbade the hostess to blow down the spout.
The beauty and variety of the cream-jugs may be traced for a whole century. One of the earliest examples (illustrated [p. 301]) shows a fine helmet-shaped jug, having the London hall-marks for the year 1736, and the mark of Paul de Lamerie the maker, renowned for his superlative work. The handle is original in conception and has a grotesque head as a terminal. The ornament is elaborate and representative of the best types of the George II era. A cream-jug of about 1740, made in Dublin by John Hamilton (illustrated [p. 339]) may be compared with the above example. The helmet form with the undulating rim is common to both specimens, but the treatment differs in character. The Irish example has three feet and possesses beauties peculiarly its own.
