conversation (as it was proved before justice Peyton[1]) cry that vegetable commonly called celery through the town. These women differed from the common criers of that herb by some private mark, which I could never learn; but the matter was notorious enough, and sufficiently talked of; and about the same period was the cry of celery brought over into this kingdom. But since there is not at this present the least occasion to suspect the loyalty of our criers upon that article, I am content that it may still be tolerated.
I shall mention but one cry more, which has any reference to politicks; but is indeed, of all others, the most insolent, as well as treasonable, under our present happy establishment, I mean that of turnups; not of turnips according to the best orthography, but absolutely turnups. Although the cry be of an older date than some of the preceding enormities, for it began soon after the revolution; yet was it never known to arrive at so great a height, as during the earl of Oxford's power. Some people (whom I take to be private enemies) are indeed as ready as myself to profess their disapprobation of this cry, on pretence that it began by the contrivance of certain old procuresses, who kept houses of ill fame, where lewd women met to draw young men into vice. And this they pretend to prove by some words in the cry; because, after the crier had bawled out, turnups, ho, buy my dainty turnups, he would sometimes add the two following verses,
Turn up the mistress, and turn up the maid,
And turn up the daughter, and be not afraid.
- ↑ A famous whig justice in those times.
