Tom Brown sketches a flirting barmaid of the same time, "as a fine lady that stood pulling a rope, and screaming like a peacock against rainy weather, pinned up by herself in a little pew, all people bowing to her as they passed by, as if she was a goddess set up to be worshipped, armed with the chalk and sponge, (which are the principal badges that belong to that honourable station you beheld her in,) was the barmaid."
Of the nimbleness of the waiters, Ward says in another place—"That the chief use he saw in the Monument was, for the improvement of vintners' boys and drawers, who came every week to exercise their supporters, and learn the tavern trip, by running up to the balcony and down again."
Owen Swan, at the Black Swan tavern, Bartholomew Lane, is thus apostrophized by Tom Brown for the goodness of his wine:—
"Thee, Owen, since the God of wine has made
Thee steward of the gay carousing trade,
Whose art decaying nature still supplies,
Warms the faint pulse, and sparkles in our eyes.
Be bountiful like him, bring t'other flask,
Were the stairs wider we would have the cask.
This pow'r we from the God of wine derive,