'Twas order'd that a hughe long pole,
With bason deck'd should grace the hole,
To guide the wounded, who unlopt
Could walk, on stumps the others hopt;
But, when they ended all their wars,
And men grew out of love with scars,
Their trade decaying; to keep swimming
They joyn'd the other trade of trimming,
And on their poles to publish either,
Thus twisted both their trades together."
During his residence at his living in the county of Meath, before he was
advanced to the deanery of St Patrick's, Dean Swift was daily shaved by
the village barber, who gained his esteem. The barber one morning, when
busy lathering Swift, said he had a great favour to ask his reverence,
adding that at the suggestion of his neighbours he had taken a small
public-house at the corner of the churchyard. He hoped that with the two
businesses he might make a better living for his family.
"Indeed," said the future Dean, "and what can I do to promote the happy
union?"
"And please you," said the barber, "some of our customers have heard
much about your reverence's poetry; so that, if you would but condescend
to give me a smart little touch in that way to clap under my sign, it
might be the making of me and mine for ever.
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