wherein Old Nelly got killed by the Parlez-
vous—a curse and a blessing, each of the
intensest character, were wont here to be
given almost simultaneously, like water
thrown upon fire—and, "There, too, it was
that I got this and tins," (exhibiting the most
frightful fissures,) " but neither of them as
gave them, mark ye, ever went home to
boast on it."

Tired of the monotonous life of a man-of-
war, he had joined one of the junior lieutenants
of his ship—a sprig of nobility, exhibiting
a singular parallel in his disposition to the
wayward Ashfield himself—in deserting from
her in company with many others, and
manning a privateer of their own, in which
they cruised for months in the
Mediterranean, and obtained several prizes. The
sprig was lopped off the Navy List for this,
however; and his fellow truants, although
otherwise pardoned, were deprived of their
long service pensions. When the war was
over, Jacob got a part-share in the Scarcliff
lugger Saucy Susan, and made many successful
runs. The profits were so large that two
lucky trips were calculated to counterbalance
the loss of cargo, vessel and all upon its third
venture. Old Ashfield once showed my father
(who, although minister of the parish, did
not consider it worth while to send twenty
miles and more for indifferent brandy to
make his winter punch with, when he could
get it far better at one-fifth of the price at
Watersleap) at least two thousand guineas in
gold, which he kept in an old portmanteau,
and took a handful from when it was needed.
He was not by any means miserly or
overprudent, but had unsettled views upon our
monetary system, and would have considered
it an act of madness to trust money to a banker,
or let it out at interest. It was, however,
light come, light go, with men of his trade,
and, cheap as his liquor was to him, his
profuse drinking, perhaps—if other things
had not impoverished him—would have kept
and left him poor. Of what that drinking
consisted we of the present day at Scarcliff
have happily no experience; but, to judge by
old Ashtield's present consumption it must
have been something tremendous. Through
the tyranny of the customs he has been of
late years reduced to gin and beer mostly, of
which he imbibes in a week sufficient to float
himself in.

"Why, I mind," says he, " when none of
us was considered a man who could not take
his half-pint stoup of white ale (pale brandy)
at a draught, and amongst us of the Saucy
Susan there was a forfeit for who did not
take his pint before breakfast, regular, and
without a drop of water. Why Mark Hilson
and I and Robert Gore—Hiison died in the
union (an expletive in connection with the
poor-law system occurred here) at eighty-one,
and Robert is alive now to tell you if I don't
speak truth. We three were drunk for an
entire week, without ever eating so much as a
crust of bread. When we were too far gone
we laid down on a hurdle of wet straw, and
when that revived us something, to it we set
again. Brandy! Why there wasn't a cottage
in Scarcliff without its little cellar in the
garden or under the hearth-stone, nor a pail,
nor a jug, nor a tub about the place but had
held the skim milk of the Saucy Susan."

Jacob himself was never caught by the
custom-house people, although they knew
him so well, except once.

"It was between two and three in the
morning, and I was driving a cargo of a dozen
kegs up Scarcliff hill to the moorland with
six horses in a team, two kegs upon each
horse, when I heard the coasters corning arter
me. I drove as hard as I could, but they
were mounted, too, and before I had got a
mile away over the moor they was upon
me. 'Ah, ah!' says they, 'so we've caught
you at last, Jacob? How early you go to
work in the morning!' And very jolly they
were about the capture, you may be sure;
sixty gallons of white ale and six horses was
a pretty good prize among three of them.
Now they had got no regular warrant with
them, which it was necessary to have before
they could lawfully seize, and they took me
into Barton to get it. The parson, who was
the magistrate there, happened, as I very
well knew, to be out for a day or two, and
we had to bide at the inn till he came home,
'And, though you are our prisoner, Jacob, we
won't treat you ill,' said the men, very good-
natured through their good-luck;' and we'll
all make merry till the warrant comes, for it
is at the king's own expense.' Which indeed
we did, and a pretty state excisemen and
prisoner and all were in for the thirty-six
hours before the parson came home. Well,
the head coaster at last gets the warrant,
and, ' Now,' says he, ' 'tis lawful for us to
taste the prize.' So they opened one of the
kegs, and passed the cup from one to t'other;
but neither of them took very kindly to it,
for, indeed, it was nothing, bless their simple
souls, but innocent sea- water, and while I
was cutting away and being caught upon the
moor a very pretty run the Saucy Susan
made of it into Sleamouth Cove, the coasters
being otherwise engaged."

It was about the year eighteen hundred and
twenty-one, that a young gentleman from
Oxford University, of the name of Hindon,
came down to our little village. He had been
expelled from college for excesses which,
even at that time, and although he came of a
great family, were considered too grave to
be over-looked. The Hindons of the Wolds
had reigned in their own place for centuries,
and, though sufficiently lawless, none of
that stock had ever grown up so wild as
Drunken Dick. Some very fast men—not
many—are decent and respectable fellows
at bottom, and when they have run their
muck and done their quantum of mischief,
pull up short and become gentlemen in