The Crooked Billet, Friday, May, - 1827. I had appointed this morning with my friend W. for a visit to the gallery of paintngs at Dulwich College; and he was to obtain from a printseller an admission ticket, and bring it with him. He came furnished with the ticket, but as the ticket provided that the public were not to be admitted on a Friday, our seeing the pictures was out of the question. Neither of us, however, was in a humour to be disappointed of a holiday; we therefore set out in the direction we had intended. A coachman hailed us from the box of a Dulwich stage; we gave him an assenting nod, and mounted the roof: and after a brisk drive through Walworth and Camberwell, which are now no other way distinguishable from the metropolis, than by the irregular forms and sizes of the houses, and the bits of sickly grass and bottle-green poplars that further diversify them, we attained to VOL. I.-22. on Penge Common. the sight of the first out-of-town looking trees and verdure on the ascent towards Hernehill. Here we began to feel "another air;" and during the calm drive down the hill into Dulwich-the prettiest of all the village entrances in the environs of London-we had glimpses, between the elms and sycamores, of pleasant lawns and blooming gardens, with bursts of the fine distances. The calm of the scene was heightened by the note of the cuckoo: it was no "note of fear" to us-we remembered our good wives surrounded by their families; they had greeted our departure with smiles, and hopes that the day would be pleasant, and that we should enjoy ourselves; -the mother and the children rejoiced in "father's holiday" as a day of happiness to them, because it would make him happier. Leaving Dulwich College on our right. with an useless regret, that, by our mistake as to the day, the picture-gallery was closed to us, we indulged in a passing remark on the discrepancies of the building-the hall and west wing of the Elizabethan age; the east wing in the Vanbrugh style; and the gallery differing from each. Alighting, just beyond, at the end of the old road, and crossing to the new one in the same line, we diligently perused an awful notice from the parochial authorities against offenders, and acquainted ourselves with the rewards for apprehending them. The board seemed to be a standing argument in behalf of reading and writing, in opposition to some of the respectable inhabitants of Dulwich, who consider ignorance the exclusive property of labourers and servants, which they cannot be deprived of without injury to their morals. Ascending the hill, and leaving on the left hand a large house, newly built by a rich timber-merchant, with young plantations that require years of growth before they can attain sufficient strength to defend the mansion from the winds, we reached the summit of the hill, and found a directionpost that pointed us to a choice of several roads. We strolled into one leading to Penge Common through enclosed woodlands. Our ears were charmed by throngs of sweet singing birds; we were in a cathedral of the feathered tribes, where "every denomination" chanted rapturous praises and thanksgivings; the vergerrobins twittered as they accompanied us with their full sparkling eyes and bright liveried breasts. Chiefs of the choir, and highest in the heavens, To reverence these creatures' loud Te Deum A holy office of their simple natures To Him-the great Creator and Preserver- A gate in the road was opened to us by a poor woman, who had seen our approach from her road-side dwelling; she had the care of collecting the toll from horsemen and carriage-drivers-we were foot-passengers, and credited our tailors for the civility. At a few yards beyond this turnpike we stopped to read a dictatorial intimation :-" All trespassers on these woods will be prosecuted, and the constables have orders to take them into custody." I am not sure that there is a "physiognomy of hand-writing," but I am a believer in the physiognomy of style, and the features of this bespoke a Buonaparte of the hundred who had partaken of the carvings under an enclosure-act. No part was fenced off from the common road, and the land had been open to all till spoliation deprived the commoners of their ancient right, and annexed he common soil to a neighbouring domain. Whose it now is, by law, I know not, nor inquired. I look around, and cottages have disappeared, and there are villas instead; and the workhouses are enlarged, and, instead of labour, tread-mills are provided. According to a political economist of ancient times, "There is much food in the tillage of the poor;" and "He that maketh haste to be rich shall not be innocent." To whom of old was it said, "The spoil of the poor is in your houses?" We lingered on our way, and passed a bridge over the canal, towards a well-looking public-house, called " the Old Crooked Billet." Before the door is, what is called, a "sign," which, according to modern usage, is a sign-post, with a sign-board without a sign, inscribed with the name of what the sign had been. Formerly this was a little ale-house, and to denote its use to the traveller, the landlord availed himself of one of the large old trees then before the door, and hung upon the lowest of its fine spreading branches not the "sign" of the billet, but a real " crooked billet:" this was the origin of "the Old Crooked Billet" on (what was) Penge Common. We had set out late and loitered, and after a brief reconnoitre entered the house in search of refreshment. The landlord and his family were at dinner in a commodious, respectable bar. He rose to us like " a giant refreshed," and stood before us a good humoured "Boniface"-every inch a man -who had attained to strength and fair proportion, by virtue of the ease and content wherein he lived. We found from his notable dame that we could have eggs and bacon, and spinach put into the pot from the garden, in a few minutes; nothing could have been suggested more suitable to our inclination, and we had the pleasure of being smiled into a comfortable parlour, with a bow-window view of the common. The time necessary for the preparation of our meal afforded leisure to observe the hostel. W. went out to pencil the exterior in his sketch-book. Except for the situation, and the broad, good-humoured, country face of our landlord, we might have imagined ourselves in town; and this was the only uncomfortable feeling we had. The sign-board on the other side of the road revealed the name of our entertainer -" R. Harding," and the parlour mantlepiece told that he was a " Dealer in Foreign Wines, Segars, &c." This inscription, written in clerk-like German text, framed and glazed, was transportation against my will, to the place from whence I came. Our attention was diverted by the rolling up of a gig, espied afar off by "mine host," who waited at the door with an eye to business, and his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket. The driver, a thin, sharpfeatured, pock-faced man, about forty, alighted with as much appearance of kindly disposition as he could bring his features to assume, and begged the favour of an order for " a capital article." His presented card was received with a drop of the landlord's countenance, and a shake of the head. The solicitor-and he looked as keenly as a Chancery-lane one-was a London Capillaire-maker; he urged "a single bottle;" the landlord pleaded his usage of sugar and demurred, nor could he be urged on to trial. Our repast brought in, and finished with of country brewed and a segar, w. completed his his sket sketch, and we paid a moderate charge, and departed with "the Old Crooked Billet" as exhibited in the engraving. The house affords as "good accommodation for man and horse" as can be found in any retired spot so near London. Our stroll to it was delightful. We withdrew along the pleasant road to the village of Beckenham. Its white pointed spire, embowered in trees, had frequently caught our sight in the course of the day, and we de Witherslack, near Milnthorpe, Sir, I think you have not celebrated in the Every-Day Book the virtues of the mountain ash, or as it is called in the northern counties, the Wiggen Tree. -Its anti-witching properties are there held in very high esteem. No witch will come near it; and it is believed that the smallest twig, which might cross the path of one of these communers with the powers of darkness, would as effectually stop her career, however wild it might be, or however intent she might be on the business of evil, as did the "key-stane" of the bridge of Doon stop the fiendish crew, that pursued poor Tam O'Shanter and his luckless mare Maggie. She You are well aware that there are few places, especially in the country, in which one of these agents of the devil, ycleped "witches," does not reside. She may always be known by her extreme penury and ugliness. There is generally also a protuberance of flesh on some part of the neck or jaw, by which it is known that she has sold herself to the father of lies. has usually a large black cat, of which she is prodigiously fond, and takes special care. Some shrewdly suspect this to be the "old gentleman" himself. She is very envious, and frequently makes malicious prognostications of evil, which subsequent events but too faithfully verify. She must therefore, with all these qualifications, be the authoress of every mishap, which cannot more reasonably be accounted for. For example, should the "auld witch" call at any farmhouse during the operation of churning, and be suffered to depart without a sop being thrown to her, in the shape of a small print of butter, you will be sure to have many a weary hour of labour the next time you churn, before butter can be obtained. And, therefore, to prevent the old beldam introducing herself into the churn, the churn-staff must be made of the "Wiggen Tree," and you will be effectually freed from her further interference in that case. The cattle in the stables and cow-houses, if she takes a spite against you, are frequently found, or dreaded to be found, (for many an instance of such things is recorded on undoubted testimony,) in a morning, tied together, standing on their heads, the cows milked, and every other mischievous prank played, which a malicious fiend could invent: and therefore to prevent all these dire ills, the shafts of the forks, and all other utensils used in those places, must be made of the allpowerful " Wiggen." She frequently does the same mischief in places far remote on the same night; and although old and crippled, and showing "all the variety of wretchedness" by day, at night she mounts her broomstick, and wings her airy course to the moon, if need be. All honest people, who have a due regard to undisturbed slumbers during the night, when all the world knows that take special care to have a branch of this never-failing antidote to witchery at their bed heads. This has been the practice of my mother ever since I can remember; she also carries a hare's foot in her pocket, to guard against all attacks in that quarter by day. You will think that these precautions are very uncalled for, perhaps, at this time of day, but such we have been in our generations, and such to a considerable extent we now are, and therefore pray do record us. I remain, Sir, &c. CARLE. A PARTICULAR DIRECTION. Garrick Plays. No XIX. (From the "Silver Age," an Histor cal Play, by Thomas Heywood, 1613.] Proserpine seeking Flowers. Pros. O may these meadows ever barren be, That wants as much as I. I should do ill Ceres, after the Rape of her Daughter. Cer. Where is my fair and lovely Proserpine? Speak, Jove's fair Daughter, whither art thou stray'd I've sought the meadows, glebes, and new-reap'd fields Yet cannot find my Child. Her scatter'd flowers, And garland half-made-up, I have lit upon; But her I cannot spy. Behold the trace Of some strange wagon, that hath scorcht the trees, And singed the grass: these ruts the sun ne'er sear'd. Where art thou, Love, where art thou, Proserpine ? She questions Triton for her Daughter. Cer. - thou that on thy shelly trumpet Summons the sea-god, answer from the depth. Trit. On Neptune's sea-horse with my concave trump Thro' all the abyss I've shrill'd thy daughter's loss. The channels clothed in waters, the low cities In which the water-gods and sea-nymphs dwell, I have perused; sought thro' whole woods and forests Of leafless coral, planted in the deeps; Toss'd up the beds of pearl; rouzed up huge whales, And stern sea-monsters, from their rocky dens; Those bottoms, bottomless; shallows and shelves, And all those currents where th' earth's springs break in; Those plains where Neptune feeds his porpoises, Thro' all our ebbs and tides my trump hath blazed her, She questions the Earth. Cer. Fair sister Earth, for all these beauteous fields, A few months ago a letter, bearing the following curious superscription, was put Spread o'er thy breast; for all these fertile crops, into the post-office in Manchester:-" For Mr. Colwell that Keeps the Shop in Back Anderson-st. to Bee Gave to Jack Timlen that Keeps the pigs in his own Sellar in Back Anderson-st. the irish man that has the Large family that bgs the mail from Mr. Colwell and milk to Bolton."* • Bolton Express. With which my plenty hath enrich'd thy bosom; Shew me my Child ! Earth. Not in revenge, fair Ceres, That your remorseless ploughs have rak't my breast, • The car of Dis. Nor that your iron-tooth'd harrows print my face Cer. Then, Earth, thou'st lost her; and, for Proserpine, I'll strike thee with a lasting barrenness. Arethusa riseth. Are. That can the river Arethusa do. My streams you know, fair Goddess, issue forth [From the "Golden Age," an Historical Play, by the same Author, 1611.] Sibilla, the Wife of Saturn, is by him enjoined to slay the new-born Jupiter. None can do it for his smiles. Sibilla. Vesta. Nurse. Sib. Mother, of all that ever mothers were Thou laugh'st to think thou must be kill'd in jest. • Proserpine; who was also Luna in Heaven, Diana on Earth. In scorn of thy rude father's tyranny? Vest. Then give him me; I am his Grandmother, And I will kill him gently: this sad office Belongs to me, as to the next of kin. Sib. For heaven's sake, when you kill him, hurt him not. Vest. Come, little knave, prepare your naked throat Alack, my pretty Grandchild, smilest thou still? Nurse. You may be careless of the King's command Sib. I'll wink, and strike; come, once more reach him hither; For die he must, so Saturn hath decreed: Vest. Ne shall he do. But swear me secrecy; C. L. THE FIRST BUTTERFLY. One of the superstitions prevailing in Devonshire is, that any individual neglecting to kill the first butterfly he may see for the season will have ill-luck throughout the year. The following recent example is given by a young lady:-" The other Sunday, as we were walking to church, we met a man running at full speed, with his hat in one hand, and a stick in the other. As he passed us, he exclaimed, 'I sha'n't hat'en now, I b'lieve.' He did not give us time to inquire what he was so eagerly pursuing; but we presently overtook an old man, whom we knew to be his father, and who being very infirm, at upwards of seventy, generally hobbled about by the aid of two sticks. Addressing me, he observed, 'My zin a took away wan a' my sticks, miss, wan't be ebble to kill'n now, though, I b'lieve.' Kill what?" said I. 'Why, 'tis a butterfly, miss, the furst hee'th a zeed for the year; and they zay that a body will have cruel bad luck if a ditn'en kill a furst a zeeth.'"* • Dorset Chronicle, May, 1895. |