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January.

If you are ill at this season, there is no occasion to send for the doctor-only stop eating. Indeed, upon general principles, it seems to me to be a mistake for people, every time there is any little thing the matter with them, to be running in such haste for the "doctor;" because, if you are going to die, a doctor can't help you; and if you are not-there is no occasion for him.*

ANGLING IN JANUARY.

Dark is the ever-flowing stream,

And snow falls on the lake;
For now the noontide sunny beam
Scarce pierces bower and brake;
And flood, or envious frost, destroys
A portion of the angler's joys.

Yet still we'll talk of sports gone by,
Of triumphs we have won,
Of waters we again shall try,

When sparkling in the sun;
Of favourite haunts, by mead or dell,
Haunts which the fisher loves so well.

Of stately Thames, of gentle Lea,
The merry monarch's seat;
Of Ditton's stream, of Avon's brae,
Or Mitcham's mild retreat;
Of waters by the meer or mill,
And all that tries the angler's skill.
Annals of Sporting.

PLOUGH MONDAY. The first Monday after Twelfth-day is so denominated, and it is the ploughman's holyday.

Of late years at this season, in the islands of Scilly, the young people exercise a sort of gallantry called "goose-dancing." The maidens are dressed up for young men, and the young men for maidens; and, thus disguised, they visit their neigh bours in companies, where they dance, and make jokes upon what has happened in the island; and every one is humorously "told their own," without offence being taken. By this sort of sport, according to yearly custom and toleration, there is a spirit of wit and drollery kept up among the people. The music and dancing done, they are treated with liquor, and then they go to the next house of entertainment.†

*Monthly Magazine, January, 1827. Strutt's Sports, 307.

Topography.

WILLY-HOWE, Yorkshire.

For the Table Book.

of the road leading from North Burton to There is an artificial mount, by the side Wold Newton, near Bridlington, in Yorkshire, called "Willy-howe," much exceedof which I have often heard the most preing in size the generality of our "hows," posterous stories related. A cavity or division on the summit is pointed out as owing its origin to the following circumstance :—

A person having intimation of a large chest of gold being buried therein, dug away the earth until it appeared in sight; he then had a train of horses, extending upwards of a quarter of a mile, attached to it by strong iron traces; by these means he was just on the point of accomplishing his purpose, when he exclaimed

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Whether God's will or not, we'll have this ark."

He, however, had no sooner pronounced this awful blasphemy, than all the traces broke, and the chest sunk still deeper in the hill, where it yet remains, all his future efforts to obtain it being in vain.

The inhabitants of the neighbourhood also speak of the place being peopled with fairies, and tell of the many extraordinary feats which this diminutive race has performed. A fairy once told a man, to whom it appears she was particularly attached, if he went to the top of "Willy-howe" every morning, he would find a guinea; this information, however, was given under the injunction that he should not make the circumstance known to any other person. For some time he continued his visit, and always successfully; but at length, like our first parents, he broke the great commandment, and, by taking with him another person, not merely suffered the loss of the usual guinea, but met with a severe punishment from the fairies for his presumption. Many more are the tales which abound here, and which almost seem to have made this a consecrated spot; but how they could at first originate, is somewhat singular.

That "Hows," "Carnedds," and "Barrows," are sepulchral, we can scarcely entertain a doubt, since in all that have been examined, human bones, rings, and other remains have been discovered. From the coins and urns found in some of them, they have been supposed the burial-places of Roman generals. "But as hydrotaphia, or urn-burial, was the custom among the Romans, and interment the practice of the

Britons, it is reasonable to conjecture, where such insignia are discovered, the tumuli are the sepulchres of some British chieftains, who fell in the Roman service." The size of each tumulus was in proportion to the rank and respect of the deceased; and the labour requisite to its formation was considerably lessened by the number employed, each inferior soldier being obliged to contribute a certain quantum to the general heap. That the one of which we are speaking is the resting-place of a great personage may be easily inferred, from its magnitude; its name also indicates the same thing, "WILLY-HOWE," being the hill of many, or the hill made by many: for in Gibson's Camden we find "Willy and Vili among the English Saxons, as Viele at this day among the Germans, signified many. So Willielmus, the defender of many. Wilfred, peace to many." Supposing then a distinguished British chieftain, who fell in the imperial service, to have been here interred, we may readily imagine that the Romans and Britons would endeavour to stimulate their own party by making his merits appear as conspicuous as possible; and to impress an awe and a dread on the feelings of their enemies, they would not hesitate to practise what we may call a pardonable fraud, in a pretension that the fairies were his friends, and continued to work miracles at his tomb. At the first glance, this idea may seem to require a stretch of fancy, but we can more readily reconcile it when we consider how firm was the belief that was placed in miracles; how prevalent the love that existed, in those dark ages of ignorance and superstition, to whatever bore that character; and how ready the Romans, with their superior sagacity, would be to avail themselves of it. The Saxons, when they became possessed of the country, would hear many strange tales, which a species of bigoted or unaccountable attach ment to the marvellous would cause to be handed down from generation to generation, each magnifying the first wonder, until they reached the climax, whence they are now so fast descending. Thus may probably have arisen the principal feature in the history of their origin.

This mode of sepulture appears to be very ancient, and that it was very general is sufficiently demonstrated by the hills yet remaining in distant parts of the world. Dr. Clarke, who noticed their existence in Siberia and Russian-Tartary, thinks the practice is alluded to in the Old Testament in these passages: "They raised a great

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heap of stones on Achan;"" and raised a great heap of stones on the king of Ai ;" they laid a heap of stones on Absalom." In the interior of South Africa, the Rev. J. Campbell "found a large heap of small stones, which had been raised by each passenger adding a stone to the heap; it was intended as a monument of respect to the memory of a king, from a remote nation, who was killed in the vicinity, and whose head and hands were interred in that spot.”

The number of these mounds in our own country is very considerable; and I trust they will remain the everlasting monuments of their own existence. Their greatest enemy is an idle curiosity, that cannot be satisfied with what antiquaries relate concerning such as have been examined, but, with a vain arrogance, assumes the power of digging though them at pleasure. For my own part, I must confess, I should like to be a witness of what they contain, yet I would hold them sacred, so far as not to have them touched with the rude hand of Ignorance. Whenever I approach these venerable relics, my mind is carried back to the time when they were young; since then, I consider what years have rolled over years, what generations have followed generations, and feel an interest peculiarly and delicately solemn, in the fate of those whose dust is here mingled with its kindred dust.

Bridlington.

HORN CHURCH IN ESSEX.

For the Table Book.

T. C.

In reply to the inquiry by Ignotus, in the Every-Day Book, vol. ii. p. 1650, respecting the origin of affixing horns to a church in Essex, I find much ambiguity on the subject, and beg leave to refer to that excellent work, "Newcourt's Repertorium," vol. ii. p. 336, who observes, on the authority of Weaver, "The inhabitants here say, by tradition, that this church, dedicated to St. Andrew, was built by a female convert, to expiate for her former sins, and that it was called Hore-church at first, till by a certain king, but by whom they are uncertain, who rode that way, it was called be put out at the east end of it." Horned-church, who caused those horns to

The vane, on the top of the spire, is also in the form of an ox's head, with the horns. "The hospital had neither college nor common seal."

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Customs.

THE PRESENT BOAR'S HEAD CAROL.

For the Table Book.

Mr. Editor, In reading your account of the "Boar's Head Carol," in your Every Day Book, vol. i. p. 1619, I find the old carol, but not the words of the carol as sung at present in Queen's College, Oxford, on Christmas-day. As I think it possible you may never have seen them, I now send you a copy as they were sung, or, more properly, chanted, in the hall of Queen's, on Christmas-day, 1810, at which time I was a member of the college, and assisted at the chant.

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There is a custom of "beating the lapstone," the day after Christmas, at Nettleton, near Burton. The shoemakers beat the lapstone at the houses of all waterdrinkers, in consequence of a neighbour, Thomas Stickler, who had not tasted malt liquor for twenty years, having been made tipsy by drinking only a half pint of ale at his shoemaker's, at Christmas. When he got home, he tottered into his house, and his good dame said, "John, where have you been?-why, you are in liquor?""No, I am not," hiccuped John, "I've only fell over the lapstone, and that has beaten my leg, so as I can't walk quite right." Hence the annual practical joke"beating the lapstone."

P.

Manners.

GAMBLING-HOUSES A CENTURY AGO. From "The London Mercury" of January 13, 1721-2.

There are, it seems, in the parish of Covent-garden, twenty-two such houses,

some of which clear sometimes 100%., and seldom less than 401. a night. They have their proper officers, both civil and military, with salaries proportionable to their respective degrees, and the importance they are of in the service, viz.

A commissioner, or commis, who is always a proprietor of the gaming-house: he looks in once a night, and the week's account is audited by him and two others of the proprietors.

A director, who superintends the room. The operator, the dealer at faro. Croupees two, who watch the card, and gather the money for the bank.

A puff, one who has money given him to play, in order to decoy others.

A clerk, who is a check upon the puff, to see that he sinks none of that money.-A squib is a puff of a lower rank, and has half the salary of a puff.

A flasher, one who sits by to swear how often he has seen the bank stript. A dunner, waiters.

An attorney, or solicitor.

A captain, one who is to fight any man that is peevish or out of humour at the loss of his money.

An usher, who takes care that the porter, orgrenadier at the door, suffers none to come in but those he knows.

A porter, who, at most of the gamingouses, is a soldier hired for that purpose.

A runner, to get intelligence of all the meetings of the justices of the peace, and when the constables go upon the search.

Any link-boy, coachman, chairman, drawer, or other person, who gives notice of the constables being upon the search, has half a guinea.

Omníana.

TASTE.

Taste is the discriminating talisman, enabling its owner to see at once the real merits of persons and things, to ascertain at a glance the true from the false, and to decide rightly on the value of individuals.

Nothing escapes him who walks the world with his eyes touched by this ointment; they are open to all around him-to admire,

or to condemn to gaze with rapture, or to turn away with disgust, where another shall pass and see nothing to excite the slightest emotion. The fair creation of nature, and the works of man afford him a wide field of continual gratification. The brook, brawling over its bed of rocks or pebbles, half concealed by the overhanging bushes that fringe its banks-or the great river flowing, in unperturbed majesty, through a wide vale of peace and plenty, or forcing its passage through a lofty range of opposing hillsthe gentle knoll, and the towering mountain-the rocky dell, and the awful precipice-the young plantation, and the venerable forest, are alike to him objects of interest and of admiration.

So in the works of man, a foot-bridge, thrown across a torrent, may be in it as gratifying to the man of taste as the finest arch, or most wonderful chain-bridge in the world; and a cottage of the humblest order may be so beautifully situated, so neatly kept, and so tastefully adorned with woodbine and jessamine, as to call forth his admiration equally with the princely residence of the British landholder, in all its pride of position, and splendour of architecture.

In short, this faculty is applicable to every object; and he who finds any thing too lofty or too humble for his admiration, does not possess it. It is exercised in the every-day affairs of life as much as in the higher arts and sciences.-Monthly Magazine.

Two RAVENS, ABROAD.

On the quay at Nimeguen, in the United Provinces, two ravens are kept at the public expense; they live in a roomy apartment, with a large wooden cage before it, which serves them for a balcony. These birds are feasted every day with the choicest fowls, with as much exactness as if they were for a gentleman's table. The privileges of the city were granted originally upon the observance of this strange custom, which is continued to this day.

TWO RAVENS, at Home.

In a MS. of the late Rev. Mr. Gough, of Shrewsbury, it is related, that one Thomas Elkes, of Middle, in Shropshire, being guardian to his eldest brother's child, who was young, and stood in his way to a considerable estate, hired a poor boy to entice him into a corn field to gather flowers, and

meeting them, sent the poor boy home, took his nephew in his arms, and carried him to a pond at the other end of the field, into which he put the child, and there left him. The child being missed, and inquiry made after him, Elkes fled, and took the road to London; the neighbours sent two horsemen in pursuit of him, who passing along the road near South Mims, in Hertfordshire, saw two ravens sitting on a cock of hay making an unusual noise, and pulling the hay about with their beaks, on which they went to the place, and found Elkes asleep under the hay. He said, that these two ravens had followed him from the time he did the fact. He was brought to Shrewsbury, tried, condemned, and hung in chains on Knockinheath.

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Towards the end of 1777, the abbé Raynal calling on Dr. Franklin found, in company with the doctor, their common friend, Silas Deane. "Ah! monsieur l'abbé," said Deane, “ we were just talking of you and your works. Do you know that you have been very ill served by some of those people who have undertaken to give you information on American affairs?" The abbé resisted this attack with some warmth; and Deane supported it by citing a variety of passages from Raynal's works, which he alleged to be incorrect. At last they came to the anecdote of "Polly Baker," on which the abbé had displayed a great deal of pathos and sentiment. "Now here," says Deane," is a tale in which there is not one word of truth." Raynal fired at this, and asserted that he had taken it from an authentic memoir received from America. Franklin, who had amused himself hitherto with listening to the dispute of his friends, at length interposed, "My dear abbé," said he, "shall I tell you the truth? When I was a young man, and rather more thoughtless than is becoming at our present time of life, I was employed in writing for a newspaper; and, as it sometimes happened that I wanted genuine materials to fill up my page, I occasionally drew on the stores of my imagination for a tale which might pass current as a reality-now this very anecdote of Polly Baker was one of my inventions."

BREAD SEALS.

The new conundrum of "bread pats," as the ladies call the epigrammatic imimpressors that their work-boxes are always full of now, pleases me mightily. Nothing could be more stupid than the old style of affiche an initial carefully engraved in a hand always perfectly unintelligible; or a crest-necessarily out of its place, nine times in ten, in female correspondencebecause nothing could be more un-“ germane " than "6 a bloody dagger" alarming every body it met, on the outside of an order for minikin pins! or a "fiery dragon," threatening a French mantua maker for some undue degree of tightness in the fitting of the sleeve! and then the same emblem, recurring through the whole letter-writing of a life, became tedious. But now every lady has a selection of axioms (in flower and water) always by her, suited to different occasions. As, "Though lost to sight, to memory 'dear!"-when she writes to a friend who has lately had his eye poked out. "Though absent, unforgotten!"-to a female correspondent, whom she has not written to for perhaps the three last (twopenny) posts; or, "Vous le meritez!" with the figure of a emblematic of every thing beautifulwhen she writes to a lover. It was receiving a note with this last seal to it that put the subject of seals into my mind; and I have some notion of getting one engraved with the same motto, "Vous le meritez," only with the personification of a horsewhip under it, instead of a rose"-for peculiar occasions. And perhaps a second would not do amiss, with the same emblem, only with the motto, "Tu l'auras !" as a sort of corollary upon the first, in cases of emergency! At all events, I patronise the system of a variety of "posies;" because, where the inside of a letter is likely to be stupid, it gives you the chance of a joke upon the out.-Monthly Magazine.

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BLEEDING FOR OUR COUNTRY.

"

It is related of a Lord Radnor in Chesterfield's time, that, with many good qualities, and no inconsiderable share of learning, he had a strong desire of being thought skilful in physic, and was very expert in bleeding. Lord Chesterfield knew his foible, and on a particular occasion, wanting his vote, came to him, and, after having conversed upon indifferent matters, complained of the headach, and desired his lordship to feel his pulse. Lord Radnor immediately advised

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