lands, until an old house in the village (now used as the poorhouse) was all that remained to them. The sole representative of the family remaining at the accession of Queen Mary was Sir Richard Baker. He had spent some years abroad in consequence of a duel; but when, said my informant, Bloody Queen Mary reigned, he thought he might safely return, as he was a Papist. When he came to Cranbrook he took up his abode in his old house. He only brought one foreign servant with him, and these two lived alone. Very soon strange stories began to be whispered respecting unearthly shrieks having been heard frequently to issue at nightfall from his house. Many people of importance were stopped and robbed in the Glastonbury woods, and many unfortunate travellers were missed and never heard of more. Richard Baker still continued to live in seclusion, but he gradually repurchased his alienated property, although he was known to have spent all he possessed before he left England. But wickedness was not always to prosper. He formed an apparent attachment to a young lady in the neighborhood, remarkable for always wearing a great many jewels. He often pressed her to come and see his old house, telling her he had many curious things he wished to show her. She had always resisted fixing a day for her visit, but happening to walk within a short distance of his house, she determined to surprise him with a visit; her companion, a lady older than herself, endeavored to dissuade her from doing so, but she would not be turned from her purpose. They knocked at the door, but no one answered them; they, however, discovered it was not locked, and determined to enter. At the head of the stairs hung a parrot, which, on their passing, cried out, "Peepoh, pretty lady, be not too bold, Or your red blood will soon run cold." And cold did run the blood of the adventurous damsel when, on opening one of the room doors, she found it filled with the dead bodies of murdered persons, chiefly women. Just then they heard a noise, and on looking out of the window saw Bloody Baker and his servant bringing in the murdered body of a lady. Nearly dead with fear, they concealed themselves in a recess under the staircase. As the murderers with their dead burden passed by them, the hand of the unfortunate murdered lady hung in the baluster of the stairs; with an oath Bloody Baker chopped it off, and it fell into the lap of one of the concealed ladies. As soon as the murderers had passed by, the ladies ran away, having the presence of mind to carry with them the dead hand, on one of the fingers of which was a ring. On reaching home they told their story, and in confirmation of it displayed the ring. All the families who had lost relatives mysteriously were then told of what had been found out, and they determined to ask Baker to a large party, apparently in a friendly manner, but to have constables concealed ready to take him into custody. He came, suspecting nothing, and then the lady told him all she had seen, pretending it was a dream. "Fair lady," said he, "dreams are nothing; they are but fables." "They may be fables," said she; "but is this a fable?" and she produced the hand and ring. Upon this the constables rushed in and took him; and the tradition further says, he was burnt, notwithstanding Queen Mary tried to save him, on account of the religion he professed. POEMS OF COLERIDGE. Coleridge, in his Biographia Literaria, 1st edit., vol. i. p. 28, relates a story of some one who desired to be introduced to him, but hesitated because he asserted that he had written an epigram on "The Ancient Mariner," which Coleridge had himself written and inserted in The Morning Post, to this effect: Your poem must eternal be, And without head or tail. This was, however, only a Gadshill robbery,-stealing stolen goods. The following epigram is said to be by Mr. Hole, in a MS. collection made by Spence, and it appeared first in print in Terra Filius, from whence Dr. Salter copied it in his Confusion worse Confounded, p. 88:— Thy verses are eternal, O my friend! For he who reads them, reads them to no end. In The Crypt, a periodical published by the late Rev. P. Hall, vol. i. p. 30, is the following poem by Coleridge :— JOB'S LUCK. BY S. T. COLERIDGE, ESQ. Sly Beelzebub took all occasions Still the sly devil did not take his spouse. But Heav'n, that brings out good from evil, Had predetermined to restore His children, camels, asses, cows, Short-sighted devil, not to take his spouse. This is merely an amplified version of the 199th epigram of the 3d Book of Owen. Divitias Jobo, sobolemque, ipsamque salutem リ Of this there are several imitations in French, three of which are given in the Epigrammes Choisies d'Owen, par M. de Kerivalant, published by Labouisse, at Lyons, in 1819. There is also another version of Job's luck : The devil engaged with Job's patience to battle, Tooth and nail strove to worry him out of his life; But heaven at length Job's forbearance rewards, TOUCHSTONE'S DIAL. Mr. Knight, in a note on As You Like It, gives us the description of a dial presented to him by a friend who had picked it "out of a deal of old iron," and which he supposes to be such a one as the "fool i' the forest" drew from his poke, and looked on with lack-lustre eye. It is very probable that this species of chronometer is still in common use in the sister kingdom. Mr. Carleton, in his amusing Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry, thus describes them : The ring-dial was the hedge-schoolmaster's next best substitute for a watch. As it is possible that a great number of our readers may never have heard of, much less seen one, we shall in a word or two describe it—nothing, indeed, could be more simple. It was a bright brass ring, about three quarters of an inch broad, and two inches and a half in diameter. There was a small hole in it, which, when held opposite the sun, admitted the light against the inside of the ring behind. On this were marked the hours and the quarters, and the time was known by observing the hour or the quarter on which the slender ray, that came in from the hole in front, fell. INFAMOUS FAME. Marmoreo Licinus tumulo jacet, at Cato nullo, O'er base Licinus costliest marbles rise; Is there a God? His tomb Licinus damns to endless fame, There is a God. A NOTE FOR LITTLE BOYS. In order that all good little boys may know how much more lucky it is for them to be little boys now, than it was in the ancient times, be informed of the cruel manner in which even good little boys were liable to be treated by the law of the Ripuarians. When a sale of land took place, it was required that there should be twelve witnesses, and with these as many boys, in whose presence the price of the land should be paid, and its formal surrender take place; and then the boys were beaten, and their ears pulled, so that the pain thus inflicted upon them should make an impression upon their memory, and that they might, if necessary, be afterwards witnesses as to the sale and delivery of the land. (Lex Ripuarium LX., de Traditionibus et Testibus.) In a note of Balucius upon this passage, he states: A practice somewhat similar to this prevails in our own times, for in some of the provinces, whenever a notorious criminal is condemned to death, parents bring their sons with them to the place of execution, and, at the moment that he is put to death, they whip their children with rods, so that being thus excited by their own sufferings, and by seeing the punishment inflicted on another for his sins, they may ever bear in mind how necessary it is for them, in their progress through life, to be prudent and virtuous.—Rer. Gall. et Franc. Script., vol. iv. p. 277. |