THE TAILOR AND THE CROWA carrion crow sat on an oak,Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do, Watching a tailor shape his cloak; Sing heigh ho, the carrion crow, Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do. Wife, bring me my old bent bow,Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do. That I may shoot yon carrion crow; Sing heigh ho, the carrion crow, Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do. The tailor he... more...

Among the four hundred human beings who peopled our parish there were two notable men and one highly gifted woman. All three are dead, and lie buried in the churchyard of the village where they lived. Their graves form a group—unsung by any poet, but worthy to be counted among the resting-places of the mighty. The woman was Mrs. Abel, the Rector's wife. None of us knew her origin—I doubt if... more...