Leigh Hunt could find little good to say of them. Says he, quoting from a supposititious poetess:—
“Thou inconvenience! thou hungry crop
For all corn! thou small creeper to and fro
Who while thou goest ever seem’st to stop,
And fiddle-faddle standest while you go;
I’the morning, freighted with a weight of woe,
Unto some Lazar-house thou journiest,
And in the evening tak’st a double row
Of dowdies, for some dance or party drest,
Besides the goods meanwhile thou movest east and west.