In consequence of some observations in a letter I received from a gentleman I occasionally correspond with. I sent him the enclosed query — His answer is by no means satisfactory but as it is a subject of high import perhaps, we shall be favoured with a little illumination from the Editorial chair, which being constructed on the same principle as the famed one, erst of Dunmon Priory (carrying double) we may naturally expect information in a due ratio.
Very truly Yours
dear Editress and a
Query — to an ingenious and experienced Friend
Good Sir — inform me (if you can)
Why thus to England’s shame,
No loving wife with her good man,
The Dunmow Flitch doth claim?
If we believe traditions old,
The men could frown, and women scold,
Full well in days of yore;
Then why is it? for sure you know
Nor flitch, nor gammon, they bestow,
As they were wont before?
I’ve pondered much, but all in vain,
Tho’ vast the pains I’ve taken,
I never yet could well explain
The failure of the bacon.
At length I cried “I’ll think no more!
The story’s old and musty
So many years are now gone o’er
— The bacon must be rusty!”
But tho’ I vow’d to think no more,
As you are rich in curious lore,
You may the cause relate,
Why unanimity is o’er;
Why fashion kicks it our of door
Why bacon’s out of date?