Thursday, March 04, 2004

I have a whole thing about the origins of my name (more vanity publishing!) but I will probably make a page up for it. This guy has come up with most of the elements (puppet dog, biblical, toby jug, etc)

Meanwhile, the connection with Toby Jugs (drinking mugs in the shape of a person) seems to have started with this 18th Century song (or possibly Sir Toby Belch in Shakespeare's Twelth Night) about a famous drinker who died, but whose clay was later dug up to make a jug in his image....all those biblical hints about humans being made of clay, well as something much older (vessels in the form of humans or animals are thousands of years old).

Toby Filpot or The Brown Jug

Dear Tom, this brown jug, which now foams with mild ale,
In which I will drink to sweet Nan of the Vale,
Was once Toby Philpot, a thirsty old soul,
As e'er cracked a bottle, or fathom'd a bowl;
In boozing about 'twas his pride to excel,
And amongst jolly topers he bore off the bell.

It chanced as in dog days (fnord) he sat at his ease,
In his flower-woven arbour, as gay as you please,
With his friend and a pipe, puffing sorrow away,
And with honest Old Stingo sat soaking his clay.
His breath-doors of life on a sudden were shut,
And he died full as big as a Dorchester Butt.

His body when long in the ground it had lain,
And time into clay had dissolv'd it again,
A potter found out, in its covert so snug,
And with part of Fat Toby he form'd this brown jug;
Now sacred to friendship, to mirth, and mild ale ---
So here's to my lovely sweet Nan of the Vale.

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