DRINKING
CUSTOMS.

Entering a benefit society.

hero, Mr. Goodman, junior, are treated, along with himself, to a glass of something neat.

Having by this time tasted some little of the cares and concerns that are incurred by the head of a family, and being impressed with the thoughts of others in perspective, our hero is now induced, from the laudable anxiety of making provision for a time of sickness, or for his family in case of death, to enrol his name in some Sick or Benefit Society. Accordingly he enters some order of the Funny Fellows, or perhaps the Foresters, or Druids, and at stated times has to attend his club, which is held at the sign of "The Three Tuns," "The King's Head," or "The Jug and Glass." Of course, as it is the object of the society to see that "the good of the house" be attended to, (whatever may be said of "the good of themselves") each member is expected to call for a glass, or a pot, at least. Our hero, therefore, is under the necessity of attending as well to the Club meetings drinking customs, as to the business of his club; and being public-house. of a generous social turn of mind, he feels no objection to sitting in company with his brethren of the lodge, till a respectable, or, perhaps suspectable, elevation of spirits has "possessed" him.

at the

Public-house debates.

Tap-room políticians.

This connection with the club gives him an opportunity, regularly every fortnight, to spend an evening in agreeable chit-chat with the "brethen," and, at the same time, to spend some of his hard-earned coins in furtherance of the drinking customs of society. But some political question of uncommon interest being at this time in course of agitation, he begins to attend at the tap, or bar-parlour of the "King's Head," for the purpose of hearing the news of the day, and listening to the debates that ensue, among the local senators who are in the habit of meeting there.

The first night on which our hero makes his appearance in this Imperial (or King's Head) Parliament, he assumes a rather unusual quietness of demeanor, being somewhat impressed with the idea that he is in the company of men possessing political knowledge immensely superior to his own, for he has often heard what great talkers were Mr. Glib, and old John Everdry, who were recently sent up to London as the delegates of the Trade's Union. The former speaker is now engaged in exposing the hollowness of the government measure; he is having all his own way, for old John Everdry

has not yet arrived, and no one in the company is able to cope with him in the field of polemics, for none can wag the tongue with equal velocity. Our hero feels considerable annoyance that such should be the case, for his opinions are of the reverse stamp, and Mr. Glib gives him no reason to change them. Here, however, comes old Everdry, and now all who are of his way of thinking are delighted at his coming; several glasses are presented to him, and the obliging old man has too much courtesy to offend any one by refusing to drink with him, no matter however overwhelming be the number of glasses held out. Some one now informs old Everdry what has been the current of Mr. Glib's discourse, and presently the two champions of the bar are engaged in close dispute. For a while the disquisition proceeds with a degree of calmness and good sense, not always to be found within the walls of St. Stephen's, but it may be observed that at the end of each subject in the discourse both disputants take a draught from the glass to give it a formal winding up.

Now, the moderation of temper and expression, before manifested, begins to fall off just in proportion to the quantity of liquor which falls down the throats of each party, and as our hero is fond of witnessing a warm dispute, he enjoys the scene right heartily; and when at a latish hour he takes his leave, he determines that, in future, such scenes shall have more of his attendance than hitherto, and accordingly he lets but few opportunities escape of being present at the discussions between the respective parties of Mr. Glib and John Everdry; and frequently has he been diverted at finding the dispute brought to a close, after the strongest arguments have failed, by the stronger liquor of mine host of the King's Head. What with these political public-house meetings and the meetings of his club, the leisure time of our hero is fully occupied, and liberal patronage is given to the drinking customs of society.

In addition, numerous casual occurrences, not to be neglected, call for his patronage. He takes a fresh dwellinghouse, perhaps, and he must entertain his friends and acquaintances at the "warming of the hearth," and when one of his acquaintances has the like occasion to change his dwelling, must be similarly entertained himself. A particular event transpires, perhaps, which calls for some demonstration.

DRINKING
CUSTOMS.

The way in gent men

which intelli

become drunkards.

The habit of visiting the tavern acquired.

Warming the hearth.

DRINKING
CUSTOMS.

Public-house

of popular feeling, and a dinner is got up at a public-house dinner parties. for its celebration; a certain price is paid for a ticket, which allows of a certain quantity of liquor, which being consumed during dinner, uniform subscriptions are set on foot among the party, and an additional quantity of liquor is brought in and handed round. Several, perhaps—our hero among the number-have a taste for something uncommon on uncommon occasions, and must, consequently, have a glass of this same uncommon, in addition to what has been paid for already.

Fairs and calendar feasts.

Shrovetide.

Turning pancakes.

Manner of spending fines.

Easter.

Christmas.

Besides such occurrences, there are the usual set days of the year on which the drinking customs must be observed: such, for instance, as the parish wakes, and the fair; and the calendar feasts, Shrovetide, Whitsuntide, Easter, and "merry Christmas;" the first and last of which must have especial observance. At Shrovetide our hero attends a party that meets at a public-house, for the purpose of "turning pancakes." The first thing done is to make a subscription to pay for the entertainment of the evening; liquor is brought in, and presently the "batter" is prepared, and the fun of the evening commences. One wight takes up the pan, pours in the batter, and after baking it on one side, prepares for the critical point of the process, by squaring his elbows, giving the pan a shake to make the cake lie loosely, and then, with all the dexterity he can muster, he gives a sudden chuck upwards to the pan, for the purpose of turning the cake in the air, and catching it on its unbaked side in the same utensil. Vain the attempt, however, for lo! it has adhered to the ceiling of the room! The novice is fined for his inexpertness, and the amount goes to the purchase of more liquor. Our hero, perhaps, turns his cake upon the floor, and incurs the same fine, which is disposed of in the same manner as the former.

Easter brings with it "eggs and ale," and smacking of lips; and Whitsuntide its revelry.

Christmas comes, and among its festivities are found not a few articles of unexceptionable merit, but strong drink must at this time also be in requisition. As our hero is now the father of a family, comprising some three or four sons, the eldest a romping lad of twelve or fourteen years of age; and as the Christmas festivities are confined more to the domestic The wassail circle than any others, the smoking wassail bowl is pre

bowl.