Where London's column, pointing to the skies,
Like a tall bully, lifts the head and lies,
There dwelt a citizen of sober fame,
A plain, good man, and Balaam was his name;
Religious, punctual, frugal, and so forth,
His word would pass for more than he was worth;
One solid dish his week-day meal affords,
And _apple pudding_ solemnized the Lord's.
POPE.
Make a batter of two eggs, a pint of milk and three or four spoonfuls
of flour; pour it into a deep dish, and having pared six or eight
apples, place them whole in the batter, and bake them.