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I am,

out you

Oranges and Bells.

at noon. Again, at eight o'clock on SunA literary hand at Newark is so oblig for a quarter of an hour.

day morning, all the bells are tolled round ing as to send the communication annexed, for which, in behalf of the reader, the edi- they come within the notice of the Every

I have mentioned the above, that, if tor offers his sincere thanks.

Day Bouk, you would give them inser. To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

tion, and, if possible, account for their

origin. Sir,

Newark, Dec. 10, 1825. Whilst on the subject of “bells,” perOn the 30th of January, the anniver- haps you can mention how “ hand bells

came into the church, and for what pursary of king Charles's martyrdom, and on Bhrove Tuesday, we have a custom here, pose.” We have a set in this church.

&c. which I believe to be singular, having

H. H. N. N. never heard of it elsewhere. On those days, there are several stalls placed in the narket-place, (as if for a regular market,) naving nothing, but oranges : you may The editor will be glad to receive eluci • purchase them,

but it is rarely the case; dations of either of these usages.

“ raffle" for them, at least that is Accounts of local customs are particutheir expression. You give the owner a larly solicited from readers of the Everyhalfpenny, which entitles you to one Day Book in every part of the country. share; if a penny, to two, and so on; and when there is a sufficient sum, you begin the raffle. A ball nearly round, (about the size of a hen's egg,) yet having To the notice of this day in the Per. twenty-six square sides, each having a

ennial Calendar, the following stanzas number, being one to twenty-six, is given are subjoined by Dr. Forster. They are you : (some balls may not have so many, evident“ developments” of phrenologicas others more, but I never saw them.) You thought. throw the ball down, what I may term, the chimney, (which is so made as to keep turning the ball as it descends,) and it falls on a flat board with a ledge, to

In a church-yard. keep it from falling off, and when it stops you look at the number. Suppose it was O empty vault of former glory! twelve, the owner of the stall uses this ex- Whate'er thou wert in time of old, pression, “Twelve is the highest, and one Thy surface tells thy living story, gone.” Then another throws ; if his is a l'ho' now so hollow, dead, and cold , lesser number, they say, “ Twelve is the For in thy form is yet descried highest, and two gone;" if a higher num

The traces left of young desire ; der, they call accordingly. The highest The Painter's art, the Statesman's pride, number takes oranges to the amount of all

The Muse's song, the Poet'u fire ; on

But these, forsooth, now seem to be first begin, a halfpenny is put down, then Mere lumps on thy periphery. they call “ One, and who makes two ?" when another is put down, it is “Two, Dear Nature, constant in her laws, and who makes three?" and so on. At

Hath mark'd each mental operation, night the practice is kept up at their own

She ev'ry feeling's limit draws

Un all the heads throughout the nation, houses till late hours; and others go to the

That there might no deception be; inns and public-houses to see what they And he who keps her tokens well, can do there.

Hears longues which every where agree Also every day, at six in the morning,

In language that no lies can tell and night, at eight o'clock, we have a bell Courage-Deceit-Destruction-Theftrung for about a quarter of an hour : it is Have traces on the skullcap left. termed six o'clock and eight o'clock bell. On saint days, Saturdays, and Sundays, But through all Nature s constancy the time is altered to seven o'clock in the An awful change of form is seen, morning, and to seven o'clock at night, Two forms are not which quite agree, with an additional ringing at one o'clock None is replaced that once halb been i

VOL. 11.-58.


Endless variety in all,

Here doth Appropriation try, From Fly to Man, Creation's pride,

By help of Secrecy, to gain Each shows his proper form-to fall A store of wealth, against we die,

Eftsoons in time's o'erwhelming tide, For heirs to dissipate again. And mutability goes on

Cause and Comparison here show, With ceaseless combination.

The use of every thing we know.

But here that fiend of fiends doth dwell, "Tis thine to teach with magic power

While Ideality unshaken Those who still bend life's fragile stem,

By facts or theory, whose spell

Maddens the soul and fires our beacon. To suck the sweets of every flower, Before the sun shall set to them;

Whom memory tortures, love deludes, Calm the contending passions dire,

Whom circumspection fills with dread, Which on thy surface I descry,

On every organ he obtrudes, Like water struggling with the fire

Until Destruction o'er his head In combat, which of them shall die ; Impends; then mad with luckless strife, Thus is the soul in Fury's car,

He volunteers the loss of life. A type of Hell's intestine war.

And canst thou teach to future inan

The way his evils to repair Old wall of man's most noble par

Say, O momento,--of the span Wbile now I trace with trembling hand of mortal life? For it the care Thy sentiments, how oft I start,

Oi truth to science be not given, Dismay'd at such a jarring band !

(From whom no treachery it can sever,) Man, with discordant frenzy fraught, There's no dependance under heaven

Seems either madman, fool, or koave; That error may not reign for ever. To try to live is all he's taught

May future heads more learning cull To 'scape her foot who uought doth save From thee, when my own head's a skull. In life's proud race ;-(unknown our goal) To strive against a kindred soul.

There is a parish game in Scotland, al These various organs show the place

this season of the year, when the waters are Where Friendship lov'd, where Passion frozen and can bear practitioners in the diglow'd,

version. It prevails, likewise, in NorthWhere Veneration grew in grace,

umberland, and other northern parts of Where justice swayed, where man was south Britain ; yet, nowhere, perhaps, is proud

it so federalized as among the descendWhence Wit its slippery sallies threw ants of those who “ha' wi' Wallace On Vanity, thereby defeated;

bled." This sport, called curling, is deWhere Hope's imaginary view

scribed by the georgical poet, and will Of things to come (fond fool) is seated ; Where Circumspection made us fear,

be better apprehended by being related Mid gleams of joy some danger near.

in his numbers : it being premised that the time agreed on, or the appointment

for playing it, is called the tryst; the Here fair Benevolence dotlı grow

match is called the bonspiel ; the boundary In forehead high-bere Imitation

marks for the play are called the tees ; Adorns the stage, where on the Brew and the stones used are called coits,

Are Sound, and Color's legislation. or quoits, or coiting, or quoiting-tones.

Now rival parishes, and shrievedoms, keep,
On upland lochs, the long-expected tryst
To play their yearly bonspiel. Aged men,
Smit with the eagerness of youth, are there,
While love of conquest lights their beamless eyes,
New-nerves their arms, and makes them young once more.

The sides when ranged, the distance meted out,
And duly traced the tees, some younger hand
Begins, with throbbing heart, and far o'ershoots,
Or sideward leaves, the mark: in vain he bends
His waist, and winds his hand, as if it still
Retained the power to guide the devious stone,

Which, onward hurling, makes the circling groupe
Quick start aside, to shun its reckless force.
But more and still more skilful arms succeed,
And near and nearer still around the tee,
This side, now that, approaches; till at last,
Two, seeming equidistant, straws, or twigs,
Decide as umpires 'tween contending coits.

Keen, keener still, as life itself were staked,
Kindles the friendly strife : one points the line
To him who, poising, aims and aims again ;
Another runs and sweeps where nothing lies.
Success alternately, from side to side,
Changes; and quick the hours un-noted fly,
Till light begins to fail, and deep below,
The player, as he stoops to lift his coit,
Sees, half incredulous, the rising moon.
But now the final, the decisive spell
Begins; near and more near the sounding stones,
Some winding in, some bearing straight along,
Crowd justling all around the mark, while one,
Just slightly touching, victory depends
Upon the final aim : long swings the stone,
Then with full force, careering furious on,
Rattling it strikes aside both friend and foe,
Maintains its course, and takes the victor's place.
The social meal succeeds, and social glass;
In words the fight renewed is fought again,
While festive mirth forgets the winged hours.-
Some quit betimes the scene, and find that home
Is still the place where genuine pleasure dwells.


the mode of waking him in proper style. NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.

“ Recollect," says he, “to put three canMean Temperature ... 36. 85.

dles at the head of the bed, after you lay me out, and two at the foot, and one at

each side. Mind now, and put a plate January 31.

with the salt on it just a top of my breast.

And, do you hear ? have plenty of tobacco King George IV. proclaimed.-- Holiday and pipes enough; and remember to make at the Exchequer.

the punch strong. And—but what the

devil is the use of talking to you ? sure I Wakes.

know you'll be sure to botch it, as I won't A newspaper of this day,* in the year

be there myself.” 1821, relates the following anecdote :

All through Ireland the ceremonial of Mr. John Büll, an artist, with poetiwakes and funerals is most punctually at- cal powers exemplified in the first votended to, and it requires 'some sçavoir lume* by a citation from his poem entifaire to carry through the arrangement in tled “The Museum,” which deserves to be a masterly manner. A great adept at the better known, favours the Every-Day business, who had been the prime ma

Book with the following original lines. nager at all the wakes in the neighbour. The conflict between the cross and the hood for many years, was at last called crescent, renders the communication peaway from the death-beds of his friends culiarly interesting to those who indulge to his own. Shortly before he died he a hope that the struggle will terminate in gave minute directions to his people as to the liberation of Greece from “worse than

Egyptian bondage.”

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and theatres are no longer conscious a

unconscious éclats de rire, but the whole By Mr. John Bull.

audience is like Mr. Wordsworth's cloud Arch of peace' the firmament

“ which moveth altogether, if it move Hath not a form more fair

at all.” Than thine, thus beautifully bent Upon the lighten'd air.

In the gardens of our habitations, ang

the immense tracts that provide great Well might the wondrous bards of yore Of thee so sweetly sing ;

cities with the products of the earth, the

cultivator seizes the first opportunity to Thy fair foot on their lovely shore Returning with the spring !

prepare and dress the bosom of our com

mon mother. “ Hard frosts, if they come An angel's form to thee they gave,

at all, are followed by sudden thaws; Celestial feign'd thy birth,

and now, therefore, if ever, the mysterious Saw thee now span the light green waive, And now the greener earth.

old song of our school days stands a

chance of being verified, which sings of Yet then, where'er thy smile was seen

• Three children sliding on the ice, On land, or billowy main,

All on a summer's day!
Thou seem'd to watch, with look serene,
O'er Freedom's glorious reign.

Now the labour of the husbandman re

commences; and it is pleasant to watch Thy brilliant arch, around the sky, The nurse of hope appear’d,

(from your library-window) the ploughSweet as the light of liberty,

team moving almost imperceptibly along, Wherewith their souls were cheer'd!

upon the distant upland that the bare

trees have disclosed to you.–Nature is But ah! if thou, when Greece was young, as busy as ever, if not openly and obDidst visit realms above ;

viously, secretly, and in the hearts of her Go and return, as minstrels sung

sweet subjects the flowers ; stirring them A messenger of love :

up to that rich rivalry of beauty which is What tale, in heaven, hast thou to tell,

to greet the first footsteps of spring, and Of tyrants and their slaves

teaching them to prepare themselves for Despots, and soul-bound men that dwell her advent, as young maidens prepare, Without their fatbers' graves !

months beforehand, for the marriage fes

tival of some dear friend. If the flowers Oh! when they see thy beauteous bow, think and feel (and he who dares to say Surround their ancient skies,

that they do not is either a fool or a phi. Do not the Grecian warriors know, 'Tis then their hour to rise ?

losopher-let him choose between the

imputations !)—if the flowers think and Let them unsheath the daring sword,

feel, what a commotion must be working And, pointing up to thee,

within their silent hearts, when the piSpeak to their men one fiery word,

nions of winter begin to grow, and indiAnd march to set them free

cate that he is at least meditating his Upon thine arch of hope they'd glance,

flight Then do they, too, begin to And say, “ The storm is o'er !

meditate on May-day, and think on the “ The clouds are breaking off--advanco,

delight with which they shall once more “ We will be slaves no more !"

breathe the fresh air, when they have

leave to escape from their subterranean The “ Mirror of the Months" repre- of this month, they are all of them at

prisons; for now, towards the latter end ents of the coming month, that

least awake from their winter slumbers, “ Now the Christmas holidays are ever, and most are busily working at their gay and all the snow in Russia could not toilets, and weaving their fantastic robes, make the first Monday in this month look and shaping their trim forms, and distilany other than black, in the home-loving ling their rich essences, and, in short, eyes of little schoolboys; and the streets getting ready in all things, that they may of London are once more evacuated of be duly prepared to join the bright prohappy wondering faces, that look any way cession of beauty that is to greet and but straight before them; and sobs are glorify the annual coming on of their heard, and sorrowful faces seen to issue sovereign lady, the spring. It is true from sundry post-chaises that carry six- none of all this can be seen. But what teen inside, exclusive of cakes and boxes; a race should we be, if we knews and

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When, in the zodiac, the Fish wheel round,
They loose the floods, and irrigate the ground.
Then, husbandmen resume their wonted toil,
Yoke their strong steers, and plough the yielding soil :
Then prudent gard'ners seize the happy time,
To dig and trench, and prune for shoots to climb,
Inspect their borders, mark the silent birth
of plants, successive, from the teeming earth,
Watch the young nurslings with paternal care,
And hope for “growing weather" all the year.
Yet February's suns uncertain shine,
for rain and frost alternately combine
To stop the plough, with sudden wintry storms
Lord, often, fearful violence the month deforns

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