Gents Mag 1800 p.23

Gents Mag 1800 p.23




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	Gentleman's Magazine 1800 p.23 [understand]ing there was not any more tobacco to be procured, came and opened all their little papers in the dish; and they agreed, that "I was yan of the cheariest streangers they had e'er seen he Buttermere:" such like expressions were sure to enliven, and I was by this too much a part of this happy group, to continue at my pipe; however, I just took some more whiffs, to let them see I did not refuse their ready gifts. A stout man, more than six foot, belonging to Lorton, about this time entered, and most piteously regretted he had not known of the dance, as his iron-bound clogs were too heavy to dance in: mine being by this time dry, I offered to lend them for the night; but he had the disappointment to find them too short, or, he said, "they would ha done very weel;" though by the bye they weighed 2lbs 7 ounces. - However, he soon was amongst the dancers, and footed it away in his stocking-feet; and after they were worn out, barefooted. At eleven, the females all came down stairs, and the old mother waited upon me at their desire, "to request I would go into the parlour, and partake of a Christian custom." A large bowl was upon a dish full of what they called "Pouseoudi," or an ale-posset, with some rum and plenty of nutmeg, sugar, and bread. Spoons garnished the dish, and every body was to take one: upon the women finding there was a spoon wanting (as I of course let them help themselves), they one and all offered me theirs, and Mary flew out of the room and brought in another. We then, on a kind of signal, began; and most excellent and stomach-warming it was: when we had finished about three-quarters of the bowl, some one recommended that we should leave the rest for the old mother, because she had made it so good; instantly every spoon was on the dish; and I am not ceratin, whether this natural civility both to me and to the old woman did not warm my heart more than the good posset. While thus feasting, the men were not idle; and all manner of sounding steps, from the shuffle of pumps to the force of iron-clad shoes, were labouring over our heads, with the variety of sound attributed to a Dutch concert. Several times, when Mary and her female friend came down to have their own talk, the black-eyed swain was in her wake, but did not follow them into the parlour; once indeed I persuaded him to come in, but they joked him out again; and, by finding myself sufficiently intimate to have my joke too, I took his part, and learnt - "We make nothing of him, he's only a next-door neighbour, - that's all." I shrewdly guessed he was next neighbour to the heart; but was rather more certain that Mary was in his. I told them, I had somewhere read of a "Sally of Buttermere," and asked which was her? The friend replied, "My name is Sally; but this Mary here is the Sally the South-countryman wrote about, and I love her above all the world." Some of the lads were getting mellow and noisy; and I had in consequence a famous share of chat with the fair two; whom I could not avoid giving a decided preference over many other buxom lasses. Mary Robinson has really a heavenly countenance, yet is she far from a perfect beauty; and in a few years she may even grow too large ever to have been thought what she now is. She is nineteen, and very tall; her voice is sweetly modulated; and in every point of manners she appeared such as might be fitted "Or, to shine in Courts with unaffected ease," &c. On speaking about her hair, her friend immediatley unpinned her cap, and let it afloat; and, at my request, that natural ornament was left to flow. It was pleasant to see all the
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