I. Fry.
P. S. I am told the sight of the postmen in their scarlet coats is not bearable in London; they look red-hot.
Weather.
Duncomb, for many years the principal vender of Dunstable larks, resided at the village of Haughton-Regis, near Dunstable. He was an eccentric character, and, according to Dunno’s “Originals,” (himself an “original”) he was “remarkable for his humorous and droll method of rhyming.” The following lines are shrewd and pleasant:—
Duncomb’s Answer in Hay-time
relating to the Weather.
Well, Duncomb, how will be the weather?
Sir, it looks cloudy altogether.
And coming ’cross our Houghton Green,
I stopp’d and talk’d with old Frank Beane.
While we stood there, sir, old Jan Swain,
Went by and said, he know’d ’twood rain.
The next that came was Master Hunt,
And he declar’d, he knew it wont.
And then I met with farmer Blow,
He told me plainly he di’nt know.
So, sir, when doctors disagree
Who’s to decide it, you or me?
Dunstable Larks.
The larks which are caught at Dunstable are unequalled for their size and richness of flavour. Their superiority is said to be owing in a great measure to the chalky soil. On their first arrival they are very lean and weak, but they recover in a short time, and are braced and fattened by picking considerable quantities of the finest particles of chalk with their food. They are usually taken in great quantities, with trammelling nets, on evenings and mornings from Michaelmas to February. When dressed and served up at some of the inns in the town, “in great perfection, by a peculiar and secret method in the process of cooking them,” they are admired as a luxury by travellers during the time they are in season; and by an ingenious contrivance in their package, they are sent ready dressed to all parts of England.