And it is fit that men should eat,
Nor was it e’er denied.
And an anonymous Scotch poet indites the following ode to luncheons:—
There are the sausages, there are the eggs,
And there are the chickens with close-fitted legs,
And there is a bottle of brandy,
And here some of the best sugar candy,
Which is better than sugar for coffee.
There are slices from good ham cut off; he
Who cut them was but an indifferent carver,