Anonymous
[Bulletin of Friend's Historical Society of Philadelphia, Vol. II, No. 2 (Sixth Month, 1908),
pages 82-85.]
[The following verses give a vivid, probably an exaggerated, view of the return home from Philadelphia Yearly Meeting in the olden days. The Bulletin is indebted to a friend for a copy. -Ed.]
This document is on The Quaker Writings Home Page.
At length the dreaded day has
come,
When country-friends must all go
home
And leave their feasting here;
Must quit the richly loaded board,
With luscious pies and puddings
stor'd,
And sparkling wine or beer.
Farewell, dear hearts; they moan-
ing cry,
Still thinking on the dearer pie
Or sav'ry joint of meat;
Indeed 'tis very hard to part
From you - --cranberry pie or tart,
Our homely fare to eat.
To leave your coffee, amber clear,
To drink skim'd milk, or homely
beer
And bread not worth a rush;
To leave your beds of softest
down,
Exchange for linsey frock the
gown,
And lie on beds of straw;
To rise to milking with the light
And go to rest before 'tis night,
Or wash our fingers raw;
Indeed we think it nation queer
That city folks should have such
cheer
And not a thing to do.
But yet it's wicked to complain,
For your excess is still our gain,
And you're so very kind,
You give us any price we ask
Whilst we put on the humble mask
And say, "we have not dined."
But now the much lov'd week is
o'er.
We from the town in numbers
pour
And seek our vacant farms;
Reflecting all the way we go,
On the dear place where pleasres
flow
And every object charms.
When Hodge tho' clad in russet
grey,
And gaping round has lost his
way,
Soon finds a kind friend's home,
Who asks him in, takes off his
coat,
And feeds him well without a
groat:
He need no further roam.
Now Hodge cleans off his thrice-
fill'd plate,
And fixing on his beaver, strait
Pursues the way to meeting.
And marching in with vacant
stare
Secures a corner bench or chair,
His country brothers greeting.
And when the Clerk proclaims
"adjourn,"
The brother clods together turn,
Says, "Josey where's he dine?"
"Why I don't know - but this here
friend
"Has ax'd me home, the day to
spend--
"But thy wife's gone with
mine."
"Let's go to Jesse Kersey's lodg-
ing,
"There many friends are always
dodging,
"But Tommy keeps the table."
He came from Lunnun people say
"And dines on roast-beef every
day;
"Indeed he's very able."
This most important subject
known
The meeting business all is flown,
They briskly walk the street;
At length arrived at Tommy's
door,
Where drabs and sages inward
pour,
The gazing throng they greet.
But Tommy's table is too small
To hold his guests - --so some, not
all,
Must wait a second course;
But now such sauces, so much
meat,
Each bounding to the nearest seat
Secures't by friendly force.
Well now suppose the meal is o'er;
Each bids farewell; then seeks
the door,
Where horses ready gear'd
Await their master's well known
voice,
And take him home against his
choice,
Who this great change had
fear'd.
First lumbers on, a waggon
strong;
And next a sulkey creaks along,
And then a well worn chair;
The waggon's number is but ten,
Eight bounding girls, and two
young men,
Their horses black and fair.
The sulkey carries only two;
The driver is obscur'd from view,
With trunks and boxes hid,
And bags and bundles pil'd so high
You scarcely can the whip descry
Slow moving as it did.
And next a chair comes rattling
on
With nearly all the harness gone,
But Dapple moves sedate.
Three rosy nymphs fill up the
seat,
With each a band-box at her feet,
In Yearly Meeting state.
And now to guard these maidens
fair,
Three country beaux keep near the
chair,
On plowing coursers sitting,
Each has an oil cloth o'er his hat,
And folded up his white cravat,
To keep for First--day meeting.
And while they move to'ards
Schuylkill's banks,
They meet the Jersey going ranks,
Those noted money makers,
Where boats perfum'd await the
tide
With glittering scales on either
side
First fill'd with fish -- then Qua-
kers.