188 KIPLING'S SUSSEX
At a sirloin of beef I've done my part
At the end of a rambling day ;
I've shared in the stew of an artizan,
Such cates are all on a par ;
If you ask my ideal of a meal for a man
I say ' Bacon and eggs at the Star '! "
The translucent red glory of the Audit or old
October Ale is now enjoyed in thought rather than
in taste, for that poor creature, the Small Beer of
the present day, is a weakly resemblance of the old
stuff. In fact, most inns sell only abominable
Swipes. Nevertheless, we still sing the good songs
in praise of drinking, but our mood is perhaps a
trifle more sentimental than ribald. We take a
delight in the song of " Tipper," the Newhaven
brewer, which is to be found in Mr. Arthur
Beckett's Sussex poems :
" Tom Tipper he lived in Newhaven town, And he made for himself a goodly renown ; Says he ' Men o' Sussex have never a peer, I'll show 'em I love 'em by brewing good beer ; At cider, at perry, at whiskey they'll sneer, When they drink a pot o' Tipper's strong beer.'
And now old Tom Tipper lies under the sod, His body is ashes, his soul is with God ; While Sussex men live his mem'ry won't fail, They'll think o' Tom Tipper when they drink his good ale. At cider, at perry, we Sussex men sneer, So long as we drink old Tom Tipper's beer."