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BEN TYRRELL's, Wednesday Night, December 6th, 1758.

OW I congratulate fair Ifis,

That fuch the Taste for Mutton Pies is!
Hail glorious BEN! whofe Genius high.
First plann'd a genuine MUTTON PIE!
Born to combine with matchless Taste,
The Charms of Pepper and of Pafte!
Was but the Motion of my Pen
Quick as thy Rolling-Pin, O BEN!
O, could my Thoughts thy Pastry ape,
And flide, like yielding Dough, to Shape;

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My Genius, like thy Oven glow,

My Numbers, like thy Gravy flow;

Or, in the Twinkling of an Eye,
I cook an Ode· as you a Pie;
O then (nor think, to mock thy Trade,
My Promises of Pie-Cruft made)
I'd raise thy culinary Fame
Above immortal Spreadbury's Name:
Though from all Cooks, a Matron wife,
In Saufages the bore the Prize:
Her Seafoning Hand should yield to thine,
Thy Mutton fhould her Pork outshine.

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Nor fhall the Mufe eleem it Folly,
To blend with thine the Praife of JOLLY
Thy lov'd Compeer! cogènial Friend!
Who mild, when Evening Shades defcend,
Imparts the froth-crown'd Porter's Aid,
To fmooth the ferious Brow of Trade:
Both fhall together mount the skies,
The PORTER his but thine the PIES.

Thine is the Houfe, dear BEN to call at,
Or for the Pocket or the Palate.

For thee, the Citizen and Cit

Their cold boil'd Beef and Carrots quit:
Grave Aldermen, ambitious, fhare
In Alma Mater's' claffic Fare:
The blooming Toafts of Oxford Town
Catch the Contagion of the Gown,
And with the wonted Ev'ning nigh,
To have a Finger in the Pie..
As fo enticing TYRRELL'S House, is,
Send not too late ye pregnant Spouses!
Think of the Midwife's vaft Surprize,
To fee Boys mark'd with Mutton Pies!
If this the univerfal Tafte is
What will become of Ven'fon Pafties?

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*CAPTAIN JOLLY, who, pro Bono Publico, firft reduced the Price of Porter in Oxford, from 6d, to 4 d. a Quart.


What of the Cates, which many a Maider,
For the next Christmas Cheer has laid in?
Sure all with BEN will fup and dine,

And leave their CHRISTMAS PIES for THINE.


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EPIGRAM, occafioned by a fuppofed extraordinary Phenomenon in MIDWIFERY.



AGE WOODS! though many a Dark Affair
Be known to thy difcerning Eyes;

E'en You, with all your Skill, must stare,
"To fee Boys mark'd with Mutton Pies?"
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II. What


What if our Wives, with equal Glee,
In Thought a Saufage fhould enjoy;
Say, would you wonder much, to fee
The MOTHER'S LONGINGS mark the Boy?



ET Christmas boaft her cuftomary Treat, A Mixture ftrange, of Suet, Currants, Meat, Where various Taftes combine, the greafy, and the fweet.

Let glad Shrove-Tuesday bring the Pancake thin,
Or Fritter rich, with Apples ftor'd within :
On Eafter-Sunday be the Pudding feen,
To which the Tanfey lends her fober Green:
And when great London hails her annual Lord,
Let quiv'ring Custard crown the Aldermannic Board.

But BEN prepares a more delicious Mefs, Substantial Fare, a Breakfast for Queen Bess: What dainty Epicure, or greedy Glutton, Would not prefer his PIE, that's made of Mutton?

Each diff'rent Country boafts a diff'rent Taste, And owe's it's Fame to Pudding or to Pafte:


SQUAB PIE in Cornwall only can they make,
In Norfolk DUMPLING, and in Salop CAKE;
But Oxford now from all fhall bear the Prize,
Fam'd, as for Saufages, for MUTTON-PIES.

MUTTON PIES for the ASSIZES. March 1, 1760.

EHOLD, once more, facetious BEN,


Steps from his Pafte, to take the Pen;
And as the Trumpets, fhrill and loud,
Precede the Sheriff's Javelin'd Crowd,
So BEN before-hand advertises
His fnug-laid Scheme for the Affizes.
Each of the Evenings, BEN propofes
With PIES so nice to smoak your Nofes:
No Coft, as heretofore, he grudges,
He'll ftand the Teft of able JUDGES;
And think, that when the Hall is up,
How cheap a Juryman may Sup!
For LAWYERS CLERKS, in Wigs so smart,
A tight warm Room is fet apart.

My MASTERS eke, (might Ben advise ye)
Detain'd too long at Nizey Prizey,
Your College Commons loft at Six,--
At BEN's the jovial Evening fix ;

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