Author unknown, 1819
(With permission from Christian Chensvold of Dandyism.net and Ivy-Style.com)
Five hours (and who can do it in less?)
By Mr. Pink was spent in dressing.
The Dandy from his chambers stalks,
To take his morning lounge and walks,
And after lounging up and down
In Dandy style, through Southwark town,
He crossed the water in a wherry,
Walked up Size Lane to Bucklersbury,
And called to see his friend Mac Carey
Who sold potatoes in an area;
When, after some conversation
About the weather and the nation,
Proposed to Pink a little plan,
Being a scientific man,
To take a pleasant jaunt, to view
The garden Botanic at Kew.
That they with walking might not tire,
Pink went two hobbies straight to hire;
Then with their steeds they galloped on,
Along the road to Kensington;
And fair their journey might be seen,
Until they came to Turnham Green,
When some rude geese began to stare
And hiss, as soon as they got there.
Now Pink had heard of geese, ’tis true,
Though he had seen but very few;
Their bold looks and terrific eyes
Filled him with terror and surprise;
And though of courage much he boasted,
Attacked them best when they were roasted.
Pink in his fright turned quickly ’round,
And knocked Mac Carey on the ground;
Then fell himself (I can’t tell which)
Either into a pond or ditch.
He crawled out upon the green,
And wished he there had never been.
When Carey raised himself upright,
Stared to see Pink in such a plight,
Then ran to help without delay,
As on the ground he fainting lay,
And with assistance found a place,
Wherein he could his stays unlace;
Escaping there the mirth and joke
Of all the neighboring vulgar folk.
This was luckily a garret,
That belonged to Peter Parrot,
The only Dandy that was seen
Or known to live, at Turnham Green,
Who gave to him some fine perfume,
That made his cheeks begin to bloom;
Lent him his half-shirt and cravat,
And then by the dear creature sat,
While his friend went back to find
Their steeds, which they had left behind:
When searching all the common round,
There only one was to be found.
Then what to do they could not tell,
For Pink was then not very well;
So Carey took him up to ride
Upon his back that he might guide
Their hobby, and return to town,
Intending there to set him down.
But as he went along the road,
The people laughed to see the load
He carried on his back upright;
So pushing on with all his might,
To avoid the teasing gabble
Of such intolerable rabble,
He tumbled over a poor old sow,
Who with her young made such a row
That frightened Pink and Carey so,
They knew not then which way to go.
And ran along together straight,
Until they reached the turnpike gate,
Where a coach had made a stop;
So they both got upon the top,
And after their disastrous falls,
At length in safety reached St. Paul’s.
Now Pink he walked with Carey home,
And both agreed no more to roam
Beyond the eastern town of Bow,
Or farther west than Rotten Row;
Where they could walk, and be admired,
Without their being so bruised and tired;
Then took leave of one another:
Pink went home to his grandmother,
And who, when he began to tell
The sad misfortunes that befell,
Declared that he should never roam
Again so far away from home;
Then she took him on her knee,
And poured him out a cup of tea,
And with sweet words, that I can’t tell,
She soothed, and made him almost well;
Then, after a night’s rest or two,
He will be able to renew
The task of dressing a la mode,
According to the present code.
You then may see, if him you meet,
The genuine Dandy all complete.