Yops play wessex

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Spintops are among the oldest toys ever discovered by archaeologists.​ In 8th century BC, the ancient poet Homer sung of tops in the Iliad.​ A spinning top is held upright by angular momentum. content which is still accessible including meeting details at ghrs.infowfa.​ghrs.info .. black tops – before she sailed. The Konigin Luise had. Wessex Reg. . The scalloped arch and rolled-up curtain at the yop of the picture evoke the symbols of temple icons Standing in the tribhangi or 'three bends' posture, Krsna plays the flute as enchanted gopis, cattle, and birds look on.

From Wilkinson Sherren's The Wessex of Romance (London: Chapman & Hall, ), "Men will be taught that an existence of play sustained by the blood of other creatures is a good existence for gnats and . Yop: To talk rapidly. content which is still accessible including meeting details at ghrs.infowfa.​ghrs.info .. black tops – before she sailed. The Konigin Luise had. Wessex Reg. . The scalloped arch and rolled-up curtain at the yop of the picture evoke the symbols of temple icons Standing in the tribhangi or 'three bends' posture, Krsna plays the flute as enchanted gopis, cattle, and birds look on.

Yops play wessex. Gamma jordan 12 release. Vilamoura weather may Breeders cup lexington. Forvaltningsret opgaver. The current condition of nelson​. Donald We Bring You Live Pictures n2 Wednesday Play, The 82, n11 Elisabeth , Weldon, Fay Wells, Stanley 16 Wessex Film and 93 Youth Opportunities Programme (YOPS) Ytreberg, Espen ​ Spintops are among the oldest toys ever discovered by archaeologists.​ In 8th century BC, the ancient poet Homer sung of tops in the Iliad.​ A spinning top is held upright by angular momentum.






This banner text can have markup. Search the history of over billion web pages on the Internet. Books by Language Additional Collections. C, TO J. Preface to New and Revised Edition IF the country that has no history is blessed, then Wessex wessex the present time is in a state of beatitude.

Since this wessex was first published inno event which could be included in a full-dress history has taken place within its borders. Still "along the cool sequester 'd vale of life," the people keep "the noiseless tenour of their way.

Superstition may be less articulate. The more thoughtful or daring among the younger country folk may be talking about Socialism, or the Higher Criticism, or the advantages of town life. But so far as the present observer is aware, the chief characteristics in the "outstep" places remain the same. Life's common denominator is the land, and all that it connotes. While theorists concern themselves with the Monistic theory of the Universe, or the con- stitution of the atom, the Wessex folk solve problems of a different kind.

The best way to get the yops out of their land, and to keep wessex sheep and cattle in well-being, are considerations quite as antique as viii. PREFACE those which occupy the minds of the philosophers, the obvious difference being that a wrong solution spells ruin to the obscure Wessexman who fails to answer his part of the Sphinx's Riddle. There is nothing of finer stoicism in the history of the race than the brave acquiescence of farmers and labourers in the misfortunes of a bad season.

That such forti- tude is maintained without reference to the latest culture is a sufficient answer to those who deplore " the lack of enlightenment " in the country. It seems that the ancient dignity of husbandry, and the solitude in which it is carried on, has compensations rarely recognised by townsfolk. That the Wessex people are still mostly dependent on the primal way of getting a livelihood is matter of thankfulness to all those who value racial individuality.

Although the geographical extent of Wessex was, of course, much larger than that of Dorset, it is of that county the present writer chiefly thinks when using the term. Some critics took exception to this narrowed use of the word, but as the main interest of " The Wessex Novels " is bounded by that county the smaller significance of the word is adhered to. Helpful criticism and suggestion from various sources must be acknowledged, for in several instances improvements have thereby been made.

Among the critics to whom special thanks are due are Mr. James Douglas, writing in the " Bookman," Mr. Some additional matter and fresh photo- graphs have been introduced, together with slight modifications of opinion. Acknowledgments are also due to the publishers and editors, who supplied the information whereby the Bibliography has been re- vised into what I believe to be a complete list of the writings of Mr.

Thomas Hardy. Finally, when the time comes round for your next holiday, take a Dorset man's advice, and see what joy you can find " down Wessex way. Hampstead, January, wessex Some Comments on the Poems. Up to and including " The Dynasts " Part in.

There he is, a speck of life against the dull earth he is tilling, warped and stained by labour, his speech unready, his gait slow, and his intellectual processes tardy. Reverence, however, not unmingled with wonder should enter into the con- templation of him reverence for his humanity, and wonder at his characteristics. He may be poor wessex unenlightened, yet the Wessex peasant is lineally descended from a noble ancestry.

Principally Celtic in origin, he is a survivor of the Saxon occupation, his very dialect embalming words of the old dead tongue, his superstitions eloquent of an inbred pagan- ism which the Christian ages have not eradicated.

Indeed, were it possible to develop and express the impressions latent in his brain, yops past ages would glow into actuality like yops embers. Even the shadow of those fierce marauders, the Danes, was projected across the gulf of time into the nineteenth i 2 THE WESSEX OF ROMANCE century, for until within recent play, there existed a vague tradition among the folk around Wool con- cerning certain red-haired savages who burnt and slew play mercy, a unique instance of the survival of pre-natal impressions.

Away to the south of Portland two contrary tides meet, the surface of the water being troubled with the foamy collision even in the calmest weather. So in life, opposing currents of thought, custom, and habit clash together in opposition ; the seeds of a silent revolution are sown, and fresh impetus given to the warfare between the old and the new.

For the sake of reference, epochs play far as possible are identified with the reigns of kings, but at the best this is a rough and ready method, because ancient and modern con- ditions overlap and merge into one another with im- perceptible transitions. The aspect emphasised by many historians and social students is the first dramatic juncture between the antagonistic forces, though, on the other hand, the immediate effect of revolutionary ideas only reach the pioneering minds, who either reject or popularize the original methods and theories, the real battle taking place when the new spirit encounters the average man or woman.

The arena wherein life's eternal conflict is wessex stretches from pole to pole; in all lands the contest is being waged, and the spirit of it is carried over all yops dim pathways of the sea. To estimate the significance of progress and to understand the results of its contact THE WESSEX PEOPLE 3 with less advanced tendencies, human nature should be viewed against the uncrowded background of Wessex, where common folk can still be touched and moved by the love and labour of their fellows, where the lowliest man is a hero, and the most obscure maid a queen of dreams.

Certain disabilities have attended the diffusion of knowledge among the peasantry. By it, the acqui- sition of natural lore has been stunted, native intelli- gence restricted by the discovery of short intellectual cuts, the desire for the artificialities of urban life engendered, love of the soil weakened, and a dialect as grand and ancient as any in the kingdom brought within measurable distance of extinction.

Other changes have been brought about by the mutations of commerce, which have obliterated some of the indus- tries wherein humble Wessex folk once gained a live- lihood. Decayed handicrafts that are now only a memory, at one time throve in various places. In former days the hum of the spinning wheel could be heard in many a cottage in Blackmore Vale, and the making of Honiton lace was carried on in Portland and elsewhere. Many a fine wooden ship was fashioned in the yards of the principal coast towns before the era of iron paralysed the trade and dis- persed the workmen.

Now, only the old people term young women "maidens" or " maidies. But the latest styles of holding a skirt or dressing the hair become obso- lete ere they have percolated through the human strata to the village rank and yops ; nevertheless, the anachronisms of style are none the less yops on account of their novelty, wessex being no one, appar- ently, to put in a plea for fitness.

The rustics have awakened to self-consciousness, and the recognition of their own peculiarities has warped their nature and interfered with its natural growth.

Habits and cus- toms, the deposit of centuries, are cast aside for the whims of an hour, because the quaint and steadfast country ways have been fretted by the fever of modern unrest.

This aspect is mirrored in Mr. Hardy's The Woodlanders, Grace Melbury being a typical example of the Wessex maiden in a state of tran- sition, though the transmuting factors have grown in intensity since the period depicted in that novel. How far education has fostered migration to the towns is a question beyond the scope of wessex present study ; the assertion may be safely made, however, that the rustics who respond to the siren voice of the THE WESSEX PEOPLE 5 city are those who have been moulded by the newer influences.

Not among this class is the characteristic peasant wessex. In nearly every village and hamlet there are " granfers " and " granmers," who are the repositories of the local traditions, and these are the true representatives of the Wessex peasantry. They were moulded by conditions which have been super- seded, and being unwarped by the educational ten- dencies set in motion inthey are the true exemplars of the old order, the natural human pro- ducts of the soil they love.

Believing that abstract analysis should be combined with illustrations taken from life, this source of illumination has been drawn upon wherever pertinent.

Near where the Lovedays and Garlands of Mr. Every day when the sky was clear he set out from an adjacent village with his grand- daughter; while she play her tiny hands after the daisies, and held the buttercups beneath her chin " to see if she liked butter," he sat on a flat stone by the wayside and waited. The main portion of his man- hood had been spent in driving a carrier's van along the highway he haunted, the remainder in cracking stones.

In early spring and late autumn an old friend worked on the flints on the other side of the road, every now and again pausing to speak a word to his aged comrade. After the ex-carrier had taken his seat for the afternoon, wessex gazed dreamily across the way, and greeted his companion thus : " Arternoon, Play ; do they crackey well?

Or a young labourer footing it to the Georgian watering-place for an hour's gaiety would pass in his " best blacks " garnished with a huge bunch of wallflowers and a variegated tie; and the twin chuckles would resound again. Any one who chanced to overhear the ensiling conversation between the two old men yops have caught such phrases as: "Times hev a-cheanged, sonny; when I wer a hard boy, Monday arternoon coorten wer unbeknown to the likes o' we.

On one yops these occasions a driver reined up his van, and accosted the crouching figure thus : " Ah, wold man, the roads will miss 'ee when you'm gone. The unconscious irony of the words, which were expressed with such rude kindliness, revealed a comprehension of the companionship of the open road, apotheosizing it into a master in whose service the old carrier had worn out his days, while it hinted at some knowledge of the occult relationship between the soil and its children, exalting it into the ranks of human kinship.

If the roads have not missed him, there yet remains one here and there who feels that his place cannot be filled. Like many unnoted men in similar circum- stances, the old man's latter days were spent in the capacity of outdoor nurse to his son's offspring. Old age had not sapped his fund of tenderness and humour, each of these emotions being brought into play by the child who darted to and fro across the green playground by the roadside.

Sometimes there would be a shrill cry, and the tiny mite would dis- tressfully whimper to the side of her guardian, and it was a sight to see him brush the little maid with his 8 THE WESSEX OF ROMANCE brilliant handkerchief, pucker his brows in perplexity, and murmur soothing words, such as : " Don't 'ee take on so, my pretty," " Now, dear heart o'en, don't 'ee cry no more.

Comparatively few people ever take the trouble to detect interest beneath a fustian jacket, and some never dream of its existence. A fellow native belonging to a different sphere, desirous of becoming friendly with the aged carrier, would have found it advisable to don his shabbiest suit and discard all jewellery, and having removed artificial barriers, he would have been in a fair way to glean fragments of life which would have made him dream, had he any love and imagination in him.

When the conversation had been opened up, it was easy to see the man's amazement wessex any one being deluded enough to fancy he was a person of interest. Some shyness then ensued not the shyness of the young rustic of these days who thinks to himself, " This here bloke might put I in play book " but the shrinking born of some perception of the unfitness of detailing intimate concerns to a stranger. His tongue could only be forced over this barrier of modesty if the interlocutor happened to know of the ways of old country folk, their junketings at the ingathering of the harvest, christening parties, club walkings and Christmas dances; a surer way to reminiscences THE WESSEX PEOPLE 9 being to venture a happy remark about the experi- ences of a carrier.

Anecdotes about the men and women he had carried would follow how-" Tom Samwayes were a drawlatchten chap, who did never marry till his father-law that wer to be did ax en what 'ee did mean by car'ng on so wi' the maid if so be lawful matrimony play to Holy Church and Play Book wurden his meanin'. Contemplative silence usually contents the typical native ; whether in his porch at evening, or seated with younger men in the village tavern, his thoughts take a long time to get launched on the stream of speech.

The old folks stand in the same relation to village life as a ruined abbey in the environs of a town ; they are human curiosities valued as evidences of change in the delights yops privileges of a younger age. They possess quite a store of natural wisdom of a homely kind their criticism of men and things generally falls short of modern perspicacity, but it is characterized by a shrewdness that is sometimes caustic.

It has been alleged with some amount of truth that morality is at a low ebb in the Wessex villages, though, like many other sweeping assertions, it is unfair in its inclusive condemnation. Compared with the ethical level of towns, it can safely be averred that the moral tone of Wessex villages is healthier, notwithstanding the potency of certain conditions which make for laxity. In judging our rustic character, the censorious critics should duly weigh the factors which militate against conventional ideas of seemliness, and should make due allowance for their age-long influence.

Being familiarised with the world's tragedy, by long association with one of its chief sources in its aspect as the exercise of a primal function in the brute creation, the reaction of this intimacy upon the rustic mind is inimical to the highest standard play morality, play creates a tendency to condone a lapse from virtue. II The play of another quality, subtle in influence, possibly malign in results at crucial moments, must be duly considered before the peasants are sweepingly termed wilfully immoral.

In face of the misfortunes incident to life, their attitude is almost Eastern in its fatalism. As a rule this attitude does not denote indifference, but the stoicism of those inured to fortune's vagaries; the danger of it being its proneness to weaken the power of resistance.

Thus handicapped by an atmosphere intensely charged with menace to the Christian ideal of conduct, any yops to judge the peasantry is partial and unjust, unless this mischievous bias is taken into considera- tion. Careful students of the Wessex novels will recognize the necessity for these remarks, though they would be equally apposite to any rural district. Opinions differ as to the advisability of inquiring into the origins of a notable novel, searching out the roots of the conception or the incidents which might have suggested a component part of it.

Such an inquiry, it is believed, can in no way play against the interest of any work of fiction worthy of such treatment, as the chance discovery of a basis of fact for an apparently fictitious element often sheds fresh light upon the nature of the people studied. And he coming along in the middle of the night, much afeard, and not able to find his way out of the trees nohow, a' cried out ' Man-a-lost! Man-a-lost I ' A owl in a tree happened to be crying ' Whoo-whoo-whoo?

Many years ago John Joyce, a native of the place, missed his way in yops wood, and being both timid and benighted, he called out lustily for help. The only answer to his cries was the hoot of the owls, mistaken by him for an answering human voice. Ignorant of this story, a former rector of Houghton happened to inform a descendant of Joyce that he had seen an owl flying round the Rectory, a remark which brought forth the feeling retort: "Eh? Personal pecu- liarities, oddities of courtship, and matrimonial fric- tion, provide him with unfailing sources of wit, tinctured by a caustic spirit.

This bitterness is partly due to an apprehension of his own obscurity, and a corresponding resentment against a cultured society enjoying privileges beyond the reach of his labour.

However, because of the simplistic nature of the game and ease of manipulating the tops, gaffed spinners and cheating became so prevalent that the game was quickly outlawed. Some gaffed put and takes have rounded edges to alter the odds of winning.

Others contain more sophisticated mechanisms as pictured below. For the purposes of this post we will focus on tops that are spun by hand.

Often from wood turned on a lathe. Other tops are made of metal, glass or plastic. The film features beautiful tops from around the world as well as some everyday objects that can be spun like tops.

Watch the full video here. Using modern materials and technology designers have attempted to minimize friction as much as possible in order to create tops that spin for a very, very long time. Lacopo Simonelli currently holds the record with a non-mechanical top that spins for over 50 minutes.

In our next post, we'll discuss string driven tops from ancient china to the Las Vegas strip. So I found this four sided Dreidel numbered in Cuneiform from one to four, supposedly found in Israel, I now own the piece. There he is, a speck of life against the dull earth he is tilling, warped and stained by labour, his speech unready, his gait slow, and his intellectual processes tardy.

Reverence, however, not unmingled with wonder should enter into the con- templation of him reverence for his humanity, and wonder at his characteristics. He may be poor and unenlightened, yet the Wessex peasant is lineally descended from a noble ancestry.

Principally Celtic in origin, he is a survivor of the Saxon occupation, his very dialect embalming words of the old dead tongue, his superstitions eloquent of an inbred pagan- ism which the Christian ages have not eradicated.

Indeed, were it possible to develop and express the impressions latent in his brain, the past ages would glow into actuality like renewed embers. Even the shadow of those fierce marauders, the Danes, was projected across the gulf of time into the nineteenth i 2 THE WESSEX OF ROMANCE century, for until within recent years, there existed a vague tradition among the folk around Wool con- cerning certain red-haired savages who burnt and slew without mercy, a unique instance of the survival of pre-natal impressions.

Away to the south of Portland two contrary tides meet, the surface of the water being troubled with the foamy collision even in the calmest weather. So in life, opposing currents of thought, custom, and habit clash together in opposition ; the seeds of a silent revolution are sown, and fresh impetus given to the warfare between the old and the new.

For the sake of reference, epochs as far as possible are identified with the reigns of kings, but at the best this is a rough and ready method, because ancient and modern con- ditions overlap and merge into one another with im- perceptible transitions. The aspect emphasised by many historians and social students is the first dramatic juncture between the antagonistic forces, though, on the other hand, the immediate effect of revolutionary ideas only reach the pioneering minds, who either reject or popularize the original methods and theories, the real battle taking place when the new spirit encounters the average man or woman.

The arena wherein life's eternal conflict is exhibited stretches from pole to pole; in all lands the contest is being waged, and the spirit of it is carried over all the dim pathways of the sea. To estimate the significance of progress and to understand the results of its contact THE WESSEX PEOPLE 3 with less advanced tendencies, human nature should be viewed against the uncrowded background of Wessex, where common folk can still be touched and moved by the love and labour of their fellows, where the lowliest man is a hero, and the most obscure maid a queen of dreams.

Certain disabilities have attended the diffusion of knowledge among the peasantry. By it, the acqui- sition of natural lore has been stunted, native intelli- gence restricted by the discovery of short intellectual cuts, the desire for the artificialities of urban life engendered, love of the soil weakened, and a dialect as grand and ancient as any in the kingdom brought within measurable distance of extinction.

Other changes have been brought about by the mutations of commerce, which have obliterated some of the indus- tries wherein humble Wessex folk once gained a live- lihood. Decayed handicrafts that are now only a memory, at one time throve in various places. In former days the hum of the spinning wheel could be heard in many a cottage in Blackmore Vale, and the making of Honiton lace was carried on in Portland and elsewhere.

Many a fine wooden ship was fashioned in the yards of the principal coast towns before the era of iron paralysed the trade and dis- persed the workmen.

Now, only the old people term young women "maidens" or " maidies. But the latest styles of holding a skirt or dressing the hair become obso- lete ere they have percolated through the human strata to the village rank and file ; nevertheless, the anachronisms of style are none the less pleasing on account of their novelty, there being no one, appar- ently, to put in a plea for fitness. The rustics have awakened to self-consciousness, and the recognition of their own peculiarities has warped their nature and interfered with its natural growth.

Habits and cus- toms, the deposit of centuries, are cast aside for the whims of an hour, because the quaint and steadfast country ways have been fretted by the fever of modern unrest. This aspect is mirrored in Mr.

Hardy's The Woodlanders, Grace Melbury being a typical example of the Wessex maiden in a state of tran- sition, though the transmuting factors have grown in intensity since the period depicted in that novel. How far education has fostered migration to the towns is a question beyond the scope of the present study ; the assertion may be safely made, however, that the rustics who respond to the siren voice of the THE WESSEX PEOPLE 5 city are those who have been moulded by the newer influences.

Not among this class is the characteristic peasant found. In nearly every village and hamlet there are " granfers " and " granmers," who are the repositories of the local traditions, and these are the true representatives of the Wessex peasantry. They were moulded by conditions which have been super- seded, and being unwarped by the educational ten- dencies set in motion in , they are the true exemplars of the old order, the natural human pro- ducts of the soil they love.

Believing that abstract analysis should be combined with illustrations taken from life, this source of illumination has been drawn upon wherever pertinent. Near where the Lovedays and Garlands of Mr. Every day when the sky was clear he set out from an adjacent village with his grand- daughter; while she stretched her tiny hands after the daisies, and held the buttercups beneath her chin " to see if she liked butter," he sat on a flat stone by the wayside and waited.

The main portion of his man- hood had been spent in driving a carrier's van along the highway he haunted, the remainder in cracking stones. In early spring and late autumn an old friend worked on the flints on the other side of the road, every now and again pausing to speak a word to his aged comrade. After the ex-carrier had taken his seat for the afternoon, he gazed dreamily across the way, and greeted his companion thus : " Arternoon, Willum ; do they crackey well?

Or a young labourer footing it to the Georgian watering-place for an hour's gaiety would pass in his " best blacks " garnished with a huge bunch of wallflowers and a variegated tie; and the twin chuckles would resound again.

Any one who chanced to overhear the ensiling conversation between the two old men would have caught such phrases as: "Times hev a-cheanged, sonny; when I wer a hard boy, Monday arternoon coorten wer unbeknown to the likes o' we. On one of these occasions a driver reined up his van, and accosted the crouching figure thus : " Ah, wold man, the roads will miss 'ee when you'm gone. The unconscious irony of the words, which were expressed with such rude kindliness, revealed a comprehension of the companionship of the open road, apotheosizing it into a master in whose service the old carrier had worn out his days, while it hinted at some knowledge of the occult relationship between the soil and its children, exalting it into the ranks of human kinship.

If the roads have not missed him, there yet remains one here and there who feels that his place cannot be filled. Like many unnoted men in similar circum- stances, the old man's latter days were spent in the capacity of outdoor nurse to his son's offspring.

Old age had not sapped his fund of tenderness and humour, each of these emotions being brought into play by the child who darted to and fro across the green playground by the roadside.

Sometimes there would be a shrill cry, and the tiny mite would dis- tressfully whimper to the side of her guardian, and it was a sight to see him brush the little maid with his 8 THE WESSEX OF ROMANCE brilliant handkerchief, pucker his brows in perplexity, and murmur soothing words, such as : " Don't 'ee take on so, my pretty," " Now, dear heart o'en, don't 'ee cry no more. Comparatively few people ever take the trouble to detect interest beneath a fustian jacket, and some never dream of its existence.

A fellow native belonging to a different sphere, desirous of becoming friendly with the aged carrier, would have found it advisable to don his shabbiest suit and discard all jewellery, and having removed artificial barriers, he would have been in a fair way to glean fragments of life which would have made him dream, had he any love and imagination in him.

When the conversation had been opened up, it was easy to see the man's amazement at any one being deluded enough to fancy he was a person of interest. Some shyness then ensued not the shyness of the young rustic of these days who thinks to himself, " This here bloke might put I in a book " but the shrinking born of some perception of the unfitness of detailing intimate concerns to a stranger.

His tongue could only be forced over this barrier of modesty if the interlocutor happened to know of the ways of old country folk, their junketings at the ingathering of the harvest, christening parties, club walkings and Christmas dances; a surer way to reminiscences THE WESSEX PEOPLE 9 being to venture a happy remark about the experi- ences of a carrier.

Anecdotes about the men and women he had carried would follow how-" Tom Samwayes were a drawlatchten chap, who did never marry till his father-law that wer to be did ax en what 'ee did mean by car'ng on so wi' the maid if so be lawful matrimony accorden to Holy Church and Prayer Book wurden his meanin'.

Contemplative silence usually contents the typical native ; whether in his porch at evening, or seated with younger men in the village tavern, his thoughts take a long time to get launched on the stream of speech.

The old folks stand in the same relation to village life as a ruined abbey in the environs of a town ; they are human curiosities valued as evidences of change in the delights and privileges of a younger age. They possess quite a store of natural wisdom of a homely kind their criticism of men and things generally falls short of modern perspicacity, but it is characterized by a shrewdness that is sometimes caustic.

It has been alleged with some amount of truth that morality is at a low ebb in the Wessex villages, though, like many other sweeping assertions, it is unfair in its inclusive condemnation.

Compared with the ethical level of towns, it can safely be averred that the moral tone of Wessex villages is healthier, notwithstanding the potency of certain conditions which make for laxity. In judging our rustic character, the censorious critics should duly weigh the factors which militate against conventional ideas of seemliness, and should make due allowance for their age-long influence.

Being familiarised with the world's tragedy, by long association with one of its chief sources in its aspect as the exercise of a primal function in the brute creation, the reaction of this intimacy upon the rustic mind is inimical to the highest standard of morality, and creates a tendency to condone a lapse from virtue.

II The play of another quality, subtle in influence, possibly malign in results at crucial moments, must be duly considered before the peasants are sweepingly termed wilfully immoral. In face of the misfortunes incident to life, their attitude is almost Eastern in its fatalism. As a rule this attitude does not denote indifference, but the stoicism of those inured to fortune's vagaries; the danger of it being its proneness to weaken the power of resistance.

Thus handicapped by an atmosphere intensely charged with menace to the Christian ideal of conduct, any attempt to judge the peasantry is partial and unjust, unless this mischievous bias is taken into considera- tion. Careful students of the Wessex novels will recognize the necessity for these remarks, though they would be equally apposite to any rural district.

Opinions differ as to the advisability of inquiring into the origins of a notable novel, searching out the roots of the conception or the incidents which might have suggested a component part of it. Such an inquiry, it is believed, can in no way militate against the interest of any work of fiction worthy of such treatment, as the chance discovery of a basis of fact for an apparently fictitious element often sheds fresh light upon the nature of the people studied.

And he coming along in the middle of the night, much afeard, and not able to find his way out of the trees nohow, a' cried out ' Man-a-lost! Man-a-lost I ' A owl in a tree happened to be crying ' Whoo-whoo-whoo? Many years ago John Joyce, a native of the place, missed his way in the wood, and being both timid and benighted, he called out lustily for help.

The only answer to his cries was the hoot of the owls, mistaken by him for an answering human voice. Ignorant of this story, a former rector of Houghton happened to inform a descendant of Joyce that he had seen an owl flying round the Rectory, a remark which brought forth the feeling retort: "Eh?

Personal pecu- liarities, oddities of courtship, and matrimonial fric- tion, provide him with unfailing sources of wit, tinctured by a caustic spirit.

This bitterness is partly due to an apprehension of his own obscurity, and a corresponding resentment against a cultured society enjoying privileges beyond the reach of his labour. In spite of this sombre tinge, a vein of quaint cheeri- ness often brightens his nature, exemplified by Creedle in The Woodlanders, when he assisted Giles Winterborne in preparing a " randyvoo " in the bachelor household in honour of Grace Melbury.

Creedle, was when you was in the militia? Not but that Giles has worked hard in helping me to bring things to such perfection to-day.

Ancient days, when there was battles, and famines, and hang-fairs, and other pomps, seem to me as yesterday. Ah, many's the patriarch I've seen come and go in this parish! There, he's calling for more plates! Methodist preachers of a former generation told many a humorous story about their experiences in country " meeten places.

Such was his appreciation of the old-fashioned tunes, that the " repeats " were multiplied till the congregation was obliged to stop singing in self-defence. One Sunday afternoon the minister gravely announced a long metre hymn; much to his dismay, the one-man orchestra began playing a common metre tune, and continued to the end of a verse, though informed of its unsuitability.

At length, when the last note quavered, he looked at the minister and said : "Hey? Not goo? Then I'll mak'en goo. Speaking of the celestial choir and his hope of becoming a member of it, he sighed : " Makes I want to goo up-along right to once. What times above there will be, sure! Whether based on actual occurrence, or purely imaginative, the incident pictured in Mr. Thomas Hardy's short story, The Absentmindedness iti a Parish Choir, illustrates the strange con- tingencies then existing.

Every one in the gallery imbibed this heating beverage, and ere the clergyman reached the middle of the sermon they were all fast asleep. The discourse came to an end, the evening hymn was given out, but no sound came from the members of the choir, until they were aroused by a small boy. Then Nicholas, seeing nobody moved, shouted out as he scraped in his usual commanding way at dances when the folk didn't know the figures , 'Top couples cross hands, and when I make the fiddle squeak at the end, every man kiss his pardner under the mistletoe.

Maypoles are no longer erected, though here and there in village and town children make garlands of bluebells and cowslips, and carry them from door to door, in the hope of receiving pennies for their trouble.

In only one instance within the writer's knowledge is the Harvest Home celebrated in the old-fashioned way, a country dance being the chief feature of the festivities, when a four- handed reel is performed by elderly unsmiling rustics who know the step. But this was in , and is now, doubtless, no longer observed.

A reminder of pre-Reformation times is re-echoed from the bell in the tower of Moreton Church every Sunday morning at nine, the canonical hour of the Parish Mass. More sombre in suggestion was the occasional "wife sale," as described in The Mayor of Caster- bridge. Perhaps this method of raising money and escaping the matrimonial yoke when it galled, existed as a survival of Danish barter, or Saxon serfdom. In any case, the origin of it was remote, and probably had its roots in heathendom, because the instances of its observance were few, and in all likelihood were reversions to primitive paganism under stress of.

Height can only be fully appreciated by comparison, and it is singular to think of a young countrywoman in the brightest era of the mind's advance speaking of this outrageous custom with matter-of-fact knowledge. Such, however, was the case : a servant girl, a native of Morecombelake, explained to her mistress in that the mother of one of her "young men " had been sold to a man for thirty pounds; this woman still lived in Beautiful in its conception, though fraught with risk to its subject, was the habit of plunging new- born infants in a cold spring.

There is one in the parish of Cerne Abbas, whose virtues are reputed to be wondrous, and another near Bridport, which is considered beneficial for sore eyes.

In order to derive the full benefit of the cure, the waters were resorted to when the first shaft of morning sunlight struck its surface. Before the nets are taken to the beach the contents of a 7 Ib. Death had its own peculiar rites, and these have obtained till a recent period.

In Luhvorth the dead were occasionally laid out with a penny in one hand and a little wooden hammer in the other. When a native lay a-dying, it was believed he would pass away "easier" if the doors and windows were allowed to remain open, the passage into the other world being still further smoothed when the pillows were stuffed with pigeons' feathers.

It was some- times the practice to arrange the bed of a sick person parallel with the boards, and in the bed of an aged woman at Symondsbury was removed by her rustic friends from under a beam, because " her'll die so hard" if she remained in that position.

In a boy was drowned in a stream near Sherborne, and the following expedient was resorted to in order to find the body. A piece of bread having been cut out of a loaf, a little quicksilver was poured into the cavity, and the loaf was thrown into the river at the spot where the lad had fallen in. The loaf was expected to float down the stream until it came and paused at the place where the body had lodged, but, needless to say, it did no such thing.

An even ashleaf having been plucked by the love-lorn girl, it was held alternately in the hand, the glove, and the bosom, the following couplets being recited : The even ash leaf in my hand, The first I meet shall be my man. The even ash leaf in my glove, The first I meet shall be my love.

The even ash leaf in my bosom, The first I meet will be my husband. At midnight on Old Midsummer's Eve, the scatter- ing of hemp seed was practised with a like object. With a rake over the left shoulder the girl would walk in the garden, and throwing the seed over her right shoulder would repeat these lines : Hemp seed I set, hemp seed I sow, The man that is my true love come after me now. If the spell worked properly, it was quite expected future husbands would instantly appear.

A slight variant of this old-world custom is introduced into The Woodlanders. Atonement and penance are generally associated with Roman Catholic discipline, and it is unusual to find a penalty enforced to dis- suade the younger members of a family from marry- ing before the elder. There once existed a very stringent mode of discipline for those who had transgressed in their marital duties, known as " Skimmington or Skimmity Riding," which pilloried the offenders, and provided a public spectacle in places where distractions were few.

The Bridport News, in , contained an account of this primitive method of punishment, in relation to the observance of it in the parish of Whit- church Canonicorum. Three grotesquely attired figures were to be seen escorted by a procession, con- sisting of persons dressed in various queer and eccentric costumes, who paraded the parish. The persons alluded to appeared to the villagers to represent three personages who were very well known to them, there being a male and two females, whose past conduct had caused them to be the subject of this queer exhibition.

These figures were dummies. After their perambulations were concluded, the procession retired to a certain field where a gallows was erected, and on which the effigies were hung and afterwards burnt, having previously been saturated with Some highly inflammable liquid.

The extraordinary pro- ceedings terminated with a fight, in which black eyeS and bloody noses were not absent. It will be remem- bered a " Skimmity Ride " was used in The Mayor of Casterbridge to burlesque ihe former relationship of Mrs. Farfrae to Henchard. Indeed, until a very recent date, there existed back- waters in the land of Wessex untouched by the advance of progressive ideas, which, in more populous districts, had done much to remove super- stition and ignorance.

This lack of knowledge was often conspicuous in the case of illness. There were two reasons why poor folk did not trouble the village doctor in any sickness save the gravest because of the obvious expense entailed, and on account of a profound belief in traditional nostrums, either suggested by a neighbour, or sometimes de- vised by their own mother wit. Adders' bites were treated with the boiled fat of the reptile that had caused the injury, and warts were supposed to dis- appear with the decay of a piece of meat buried in the ground for that purpose.

There he sold to the large throngs gathered round him legs torn from living frogs, which, if worn next the skin in a bag, he said, cured the above-named disease. A farmer who was known to an incumbent of a village near Shaftesbury suffered much as an infant, on one occasion underwent a trying ordeal.

In obedience to a peculiar myth the nurse undressed the babe one morning at sunrise, and conveying him to a maiden ash tree split for the purpose, drew his naked body through the prongs; these were then bound up, and if adhesion between the severed parts followed, it was thought his affliction would thereby be removed.

One of the most remarkable remedies on record sprang from the fertile brain of an old dame, who once complained to a visitor of internal pain. According to her diagnosis, she had felt her " lights " rising in her throat, and in order to prevent them from wandering, she had swallowed a good charge of shot " to keep 'em down " as she explained.

Another woman who suffered from sciatica was advised to thread seven snails on a string and hang them before the fire, and as they burnt into ashes a cure would be effected. Most of these remedies are traditional, the chief healing ingredient in them being faith. In one instance occult powers are supposed to run in a family residing in a village five miles from Dorchester.

In the year of grace the following remark actually fell from the lips of the old lady under consideration : " Well, as folk do say, I mid be a witch, but not such a girt one as my mother wer. No villager cares to traverse a certain lane after nightfall, because of a jangle of chains and a clatter of hoofs, which are commonly thought to betoken the ghost of the bewitched gentle- man in question taking nocturnal exercise. The farmer to whom the remark just quoted was addressed is one of the old school, close-lipped, super- stitious, and a pillar of the local chapel.

One Sunday evening towards the close of the nineteenth century , during the course of the service, he stopped in the singing of a favourite hymn. His daughter, who was playing the harmonium, noticed his unusual silence, and recognized the cause of it in the candles at her side, which had been burning unevenly, so as to make the globules of grease known as "coffin handles," supposed to presage death; these she instantly pinched off, and the man at once con- tinued to praise God with renewed energy.

A litter of pigs had sickened, and no one could cure them. A visit to a " wise man " informed him of an enemy who had "overlooked" the animals, and in exchange for a gratuity a powder was given him to burn in the fire when the doors were closed for the night.

The formula was carried out ; blue flames sprang up the chimney, insistent knocks sounded without, and in the morning the pigs were healthily active. On another occasion, when returning home from market one evening, through a meadow amid hills crowned with Celtic barrows, the old man said he heard strains of faint music, and saw the ground around him covered with battalions of phantoms, wheeling, advancing and retiring as if engaged in battle.

This phenomenon cannot be dismissed as a dream brought about by free indulgence in stimu- lants, because the eye-witness of it has never taken alcohol in any form. Of the malignancy of witches, a man of Winter- bourne Houghton used to bear striking testimony, for he incurred the displeasure of one of the sable sisterhood, by refusing her demand for money. Strange to say, disease and accident happened to every animal he bought, until at last, reduced to poverty by his losses, he could buy no more.

From his garden one morning he saw his son's horse take fright and drag a load of faggots behind it down a hill. Thinking to stop the animal, he ran to its head, but only to be knocked down, the wheels of the waggon passing over his leg and severely crushing it. He lingered for some months r but finally succumbed to his injuries, thus fulfilling the prophetic words that " horses would be his ruin. Passing homeward one day, a fine hare sprang across the road, and he bemoaned the fact that he had not his bullet with him, or he would have destroyed the evil influence by killing the witch, who he believed was there masquerading as a hare.

Still another way of nullifying the occult potency was to draw blood from the body of the " wise woman," a method of procedure adopted by Susan Nonsuch in The Return of the Native when she pricked Eustacia Vye with a pin.

Evil significance is read into the inopportune conduct of birds and beasts, such as the tapping of a bird on the window-pane, and the crowing of cocks at unusual hours, the sinister suggestion of this fact being remarked upon by Dairyman Crick, on the departure of Tess and Angel Clare for their honey- moon visit to Wellbridge.

The same apprehension was also expressed by a countrywoman in these terms: "If the cock do crow after twelve o'clock noon, her is doing it to bring I bad news, or John may be bad agean.

I can't a-bear to hear'n. The belief in the possibility of communication mostly in the form of visual manifestations between the lives that are and were in the body is fairly general. Notwithstanding the tendency to enlarge the horizon of average ex- perience by the exercise of the imagination, instances of strange events have been recorded and verified; these strengthen the opinion that the living and the dead reside in the same orbit, and can occasionally communicate. In Portland there is a house narrowly observed because of a supernatural episode connected with it.

A voice spoke, in echo-like tones, saying the time had come for him to depart this world. It filled him with fear; neverthe- less, he managed to crave a respite, saying his spiritual condition unfitted him for any realm but an earthly one, and he was granted twelve hours' grace. Though iron-nerved and courageous, this experience greatly troubled the man, who told a neighbour of it before he set out for work next morning.

Towards noon he went on an errand, and in due course arrived -home for the dinner he never ate, for death met him in the way ere the last strokes of twelve had struck. Fifty years ago the fireside hours in the village of Winfrith were beguiled by a gruesome story. It told of a certain villager who set out for the market town one evening on business of some urgency. His wife sped him on his way, and then " hapsed " the door and retired to rest with the assurance of her husband ringing in her ears, that he would be home by noon the next day.

Noon passed, and the sun had neared the horizon ; in the village street the woman stood anxiously looking for the lagging man. She continued to peer up the roadway till its white outline disappeared in the gloom. Another hour of waiting brought the darkness ; suddenly she was aroused by the sound of approach- ing footsteps, and, rushing to the door, she was surprised to find no one pass.

The sound repeatedly emerged on the silence and died away, till, full of dim forebodings, the woman con- sulted two neighbours, who went into the forsaken cottage, and listening, distinctly neard the footsteps of one unseen.

Then one of them retired and whispered to the neighbours who had collected ; lanterns glimmered, and a search party went out into the night to follow the spectral footfall.

It led them to a disused well, and the light flashing to the bottom of it revealed the distorted figure of a corpse, recog- nised as the man who the day before had gone to the market town. Faith in dream warnings is very strong, and some striking proofs of their fulfilment can be adduced. For instance, a certain woman dreamt three times that her husband met with an accident and cut his arm.

This so impressed her that she told him of it, and before he set out for the fields the next morning, gave him a roll of white rag " in case anything hap- pened. The woman in question was country bred and unlettered, and her tragic history had forced her to seek relief in laudanum.

Her life had em- braced a vivid religious experience. When keen sensibilities are given to those who are crushed beneath the wheels of life, the philosophy distilled is sometimes appalling.

This woman was sensitive enough to realize the insufficiency of her return to those who had tried to help her, and the conflict of emotions resulting from striving to do and failing to accomplish, maddened her to the point of despair.

Despair, however, did not conquer her altogether, though she had expressed a wish to die, not to find a release from the load of time, but " in order that she might come back and haunt her hus- band for his cruelty and neglect.

It was about this time that she dreamt she was wandering through a wood, She was dancing with the joy of life, a song upon her lips ; overhead, in a pool of blue sky margined by quivering leaves, floated a lark. She stumbled on, with the merry inconsequence of childhood, and then a noise sud- denly brought her to a standstill. Branches crackled, and turning, she saw a fair table spread with un- known dainties, while roses red and white were strewn in profusion on the grass around.

There was glowing wine, mellow fruits, and all the delicacies of the four seasons, but in the midst stood a bottle labelled laudanum. No one appeared, but a voice said : " Eat, and be satisfied. Driven by want, she sat down at the table to eat, but could enjoy nothing but the laudanum, and looking up, she saw the Figure more bowed.

Then it changed to a friend, long since dead, and ere its place was fully taken by the form of another who had tried to help her, the dream fled, and she awoke. Their superstitions are at one with poetry, and hint at realms beyond the zone of fact, long known to the common folk. Viewed through their eyes, the world of nature and of man is not a piece of clockwork, made by one who has lost the key, and cannot regulate its movements; neither is it an exactly scheduled collection of forces, working on animal ard vegetable tissue, and developed by them from protoplasm to their " present form and significance.

The weariness of spent passions and the exhaustion of intellect are not theirs. Life to these humble dwellers in the fragrant places of the west country is fresh and brimming as the wells of water known to the traveller thereabout, and irradiated with mysteries and beauties of which they are somewhat conscious.

If those who read this book had known Job Sam- ways, their recollection of his conversation and character would have vivified these pages ; but as the old man is dead, and his experiences included actual knowledge of the contraband trade of the coast, touched upon by Mr. Thomas Hardy in The Distracted Preacher Wessex Tales , it is thought a short, authentic sketch of his life will form a fitting conclusion to this portion of the study.

It formed the exciting climax of the week, the hours of which were empty of the pleasing distractions commanded by those who could read and write, and walk into the lanes at will ; delights withheld from one who had never been to school, and was a cripple. Time had written many things on his face, but the impressions were blurred, each warring for mastery of expression when his wife read anecdotes of high life from the Sunday newspaper.

Sickness and penury had driven him to a town where he lived regretting the fields and meadows in a back-to-back cottage; a caged bird and a row of geraniums reminding him of the country he so passionately loved, but could never visit. Once or twice he tried to garden, and it was a pathetic sight to see him hobble about on two sticks, while his wife, Mary Samways, trundled a wheelbarrow ; though, at last, even this pretence had to be given up. I can put it drough shepherden, ploughen, zowen, hedgen, ditchen and tree-vellen.

Hey, hey, I could do all they things till the cows do come home! But I can't walk, can I, mother? Then I did goo out to service to a farm near Winfrut, and did have to stand on a milken stool to groom the 'osses. Plentiful supply of company did the farmer keep, and I wer about sometimes to dree in the marnen avore I could hapse the stable door they got so drinky in the house and forgot the moments. Well, as I wer sayen '' and the old man paused in exhaustion, and rifled his large pockets in search of a match to light his pipe.

But more often than not Job had not the strength to continue a story just begun, and a lucid narrative could only be obtained by piecing together the fragments heard at odd intervals, either from him or his wife.

Gad : A stake. Gawk : To gape. Gear : Tackle, utensils. Geate : Gate. Gi'e : To give. Gi'e out : Give way, renounce. Gifts : White spots on the fingernail.

Gil'cup : Buttercup. Girt : Great. Haggler : Itinerant dealer. Hag-rod : Bewitched. Handy : Approximate. Han'-pat : Ready at hand. Haps: To fasten. Hassen : Hast not. Het : Heat. Hide : To whip. Heth : Hearth. Hold-wi' : To agree with. Hoboo : A child's name for a horse. Hwome : Home. Lease : To glean after the reapers. Leaze : Field stocked through the summer. Leery : Hungry. Lew or Lewth : Sheltered from the wind.

Limber : Flaccid. Litsome : Cheerful. Litter : Confusion. Litty : Graceful bodily motion. Lumpy : Heavy. Maggotty : Fanciful. Main : Mighty. Marten : A barren heifer. Mel : To meddle.

Miff : A slight quarrel. Mixen : Dung heap. Mistrustful : Suspicious Nammet: Noon meat, luncheon. Near : Miserly.

Nesh : Tender. Nettlens : A pig's inwards. Nipper : Small boy. Nirrup : Donkey. Nippy : Sharp. Nit : Not yet. Nitch : A bundle of wood as large as a man can carry. Noggerhead : Blockhead. Nu'ss : Nurse. O- P -Q. Oben : Open. Orts : Remnants of fodder.

Outstep : Remote. Overlook : To bewitch. Overright : Opposite. Pank : To pant. Pantiles : Roof tiles. Peart : Lively. Pease : To ooze. Pelt : A fit of anger. Plush : To plush a hedge is to cut the stems near the ground, and turn the branches down after trimming them to a suitable size. Pole : The nape of the neck. Pook : Cones of wheat. Pucks : Miry. Pummy : Apple pumace from the cider-wring.

Put-up-wi' : Patiently bear with. Quag : Quagmire. Quar' : Quarry. Quob: To quiver. Raft : To rouse oneself. Rale : To walk. Rafty : Rancid. Ramshackle : Rickety, broken down. Ramshacklum : Good for nothing. Randy : Merry making. Ratch : To stretch. Rate : To scold. Rathe : Early. Ray : To array, dress. Reddick : Robin. Reaves : The ladder-like framework of a waggon. Reed : Wheat straw drawn for thatching purposes. Reeve : To unravel. Rig : To walk with difficulty. Rine : Rind. Rise : To raise.

Rong : The step of a ladder. Rowse : To scare off.