IN RE SQUIRRELS. Be it remembered, that C. L. comes ere and represents his relations; that to say, on behalf of the recollections, eing the next of kin, of him, the said E. L., and of sundry persons who are 'aye treading" in the manner of squir rels aforesaid; and thus he saith:-- For the Every-Day Book. What is gone with the Cages with the climbing Squirrel and bells to them, which were formerly the indispensable appendage to the outside of a Tinman's shop, and were in fact the only Live Signs? One, we believe, still hangs out on Holborn; but they are fast vanishing with the good old modes of our ancestors. They seem to have been superseded by that still more ingenious refinement of modern humanity-the Tread-mill; in which human Squirrels still perform a similar round of ceaseless, improgressive clambering; which must be nuts to them. We almost doubt the fact of the teeth of this creature being so purely orange coloured, as Mr. Urban's correspondent gives out. One of our old poets-and they were pretty sharp observers of nature-describes them as brown. But perhaps the naturalist referred to meant "of the colour of a Maltese orange," which is rather more obfuscated than your fruit of Seville, or Saint Michael's; and may help to reconcile the difference. We cannot speak from observation, but we remember at school getting our fingers into the orangery of one of these little gentry (not having a due caution of the traps set there), and the result proved sourer than lemons. The Author of the Task somewhere speaks of their anger as being "insignificantly fierce," but we found the demonstration of it on this occasion quite as significant as we desired; and have not been disposed since to look any of these "gift horses" in the mouth. Maiden aunts keep these "small deer" as they do parrots, to bite people's fingers, on purpose to give them good advice "not to venture so near the cage another time." As for their "six quavers divided into three quavers and a dotted crotchet," I suppose, they may go into Jeremy Fletcher in the "Faithful Shepherdess."-The Satyr offers to Clorin, -grapes whose lusty blood The head of Bacchus; nuts more brown Bentham's next budget of Fallacies, along with the "melodious and proportionable kinde of musicke," recorded in your last number of another highly gifted animal.* C. L. FLORAL DIRECTORY. Tenleaved Sunflower. Helianthus decapetalus. Dedicated to St. Anstrudis. October 18. St. Luke the Evangelist, A. D. 63. St. Julian Sabus, 4th Cent. St. Justin. St. Monon, 7th Cent. St. Luke. church of England calendar and almaThe name of this evangelist is in the nacs on this day, which was appointed his festival by the Romish church in the twelfth century. As a more convenient occasion will occur for a suitable notice of his history and character, it is deferred about the year 70, in the eighty-fourth till then. It is presumed that he died year of his age, having written his gospel about seven or eight years before. CHARLTON FAIR. Commonly called HORN FAIR. At the pleasant village of Charlton, on the north side of Blackheath, about eight miles from London, a fair is held annually on St. Luke's day. It is called "Horn Fair," from the custom of carrying horns at it formerly, and the frequenters still wearing them. A foreigner travelling in England in the year 1598, mentions horns to have been conspicuously displayed in its neighbourhood at that early period. "Upon taking the air down the river (from London), on the left hand lies Ratcliffe, a considerable suburb. On the opposite shore is fixed a long pole with rams-horns upon it, the intention of which was vulgarly said to be a reflection upon wilful and contented cuckolds."+ An old newspaper states, that it was formerly a custom for a procession to go from some of the inus in Bishopsgatestreet, in which were, a king, a queen, a miller, a counsellor, &c., and a great number of others, with horns in their hats, to Charlton, where they went round the church three times. This was accompa↑ Hentzner. * Page 1360. nied by so many indecencies on Blackheath, such as the whipping of females with furze, &c., that it gave rise to the proverb of "all is fair at Horn Fair." A curious biographical memoir relates the custom of going to Horn Fair in womens' clothes. "I remember being there upon Horn-Fair day, I was dressed in my land-ladie's best gown and other women's attire, and to Horn Fair we went, and as we were coming back by water, all the cloathes were spoiled by dirty water, &c., that was flung on us in an inundation, for which I was obliged to present her with two guineas to make atonement for the damages sustained." Mr. Brand, who cites these notices, and observes that Grose mentions this fair, adds, that "It consists of a riotous mob, who, after a printed summons dispersed through the adjacent towns, meet at Cuckold's Point, near Deptford, and march from thence in procession through that town and Greenwich to Charlton, with horns of different kinds upon their heads; and at the fair there are sold rams' horns, and every sort of toy made of horn: even the gingerbread figures have horns." The same recorder of customs mentions an absurd tradition assigning the origin of this fair to a grant from king John, which, he very properly remarks, is "too ridiculous to merit the smallest attention." is "A sermon," says Mr. Brand, preached at Charlton church on the fairday." This sermon is now discontinued on the festival-day: the practice was created by a bequest of twenty shillings a year to the minister of the parish for preaching it. The horn bearing at this fair may be conjectured to have originated from the symbol, accompanying the figure of St. Luke: when he is represented by sculpture or painting, he is usually in the act of writing, with an ox or cow by his side, whose horns are conspicuous. These seem to have been seized by the former inhabitants of Charlton on the day of the saint's festival, as a lively mode of sounding forth their rude pleasure for the holiday. Though most of the painted glass in the windows of the church was destroyed during the troubles in the time of Charles I., yet many fragments remain of St. Luke's ox with wings on his back, and goodly horns upon his head: indeed, with Brand. + Life of Mr. William Fuller, 1703, 12mo. the exception of two or three armorial bearings, and a few cherubs' heads, these figures of St. Luke's horned symbol, which escaped destruction, and are carefully placed in the upper part of the windows, are the only painted glass remaining; save also, however, that in the east window, there are the head and shoulders of the saint himself, and the same parts of the figure of Aaron. The procession of horns, customary at Charlton fair, has ceased; but horns still continue to be sold from the lowest to "the best booth in the fair." They are chiefly those of sheep, goats, and smaller animals, and are usually gilt and decorated for their less innocent successors to these ornaments. The fair is still a kind of carnival or masquerade. On St. Luke's-day, 1825, though the weather was unfavour able to the customary humours, most of the visitors wore masks; several were disguised in women's clothes, and some assumed whimsical characters. The spacious and celebrated Crown and Anchor booth was the principal scene of their amusements. The fair is now held in a private field: formerly it was on the green opposite the church, and facing the mansion of sir Thomas Wilson. The late lady Wilson was a great admirer and patroness of the fair; the old lady was accustomed to come down with her attendants every morning during the fair, "and in long order go," from the steps of her ancient hall, to without the gates of her court-yard, when the bands of the different shows hailed her appearance, as a signal to strike up their melody of discords: Richardson, always pitched his great booth in front of the house. Latterly, however, the fair has diminished; Richardson was not there in 1825, not were there any shows of consequence, "Horns! horns!" were the customary and chief cry, and the most conspicuous source of frolic: they were in the hat and bonnet of almost every person in the rout. A few years ago, it was usual for neighbouring gentry to proceed thither in their carriages during the morning to ser the sports. The fair lasts three days. One of the pleasantest walks from Greenwich is over Blackheath, along by the park-wall to Charlton; and from thence after passing through that village, across Woolwich common and Plumstead common, along green lanes, over the foot paths of the fields, to the very retired and rural village of East Wickham, which lies about half a mile on the north side of Welling, through which is the great London road to Dover. There are various pleasant views for the lover of cultivated nature, with occasional fine bursts of the broad flowing Thames. Students in botany and geology will not find it a stroll, barren of objects in their favourite sciences. FLORAL DIRECTORY. Floccose Agaric. October 19. Sts. St. Peter, of Alcantara, A. D. 1562. The Last Rose of Summer. I'll not leave thee, thou lone one Thus kindly I scatter Thy leaves o'er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead. Sendou, 7th Cent. St. Adian, Bp. of Migration of Birds. Woodcocks have now arrived. In the autumn and setting in of winter they keep dropping in from the Baltic singly, or in pairs, till December. They instinctively land in the night, or in dark misty weather, for they are never seen to arrive, but are frequently discovered the next morning in any ditch which affords them shelter, after the extraordinary fatigue occasioned by the adverse gales which they often have to encounter in their aerial voyage. They do not remain near the shores longer than a day, when they are sufficiently recruited to proceed inland, and they visit the very same haunts which they left the preceding season. In temperate weather they retire to mossy moors, and high bleak mountainous parts; but as soon as the frost sets in, and the snows begin to fall, they seek lower and warmer situations, with boggy grounds and springs, and little oozing mossy rills, which are rarely frozen, where they shelter in close bushes of holly and furze, and the brakes of woody giens, or in dells which are covered with underwood here they remain concealed during the day, and remove to different haunts and feed only in the night. From the beginning of March to the end of that month, or sometimes to the middle of April, they all keep drawing towards the coasts, and avail themselves of the first fair wind to return to their native woods. The snipe, scolopax gallinago, also comes now, and inhabits similar situations. It is migratory, and met with in all countries: like the woodcock, it shuns the extremes of heat and cold, by keeping upon the bleak moors in summer, and seeking the shelter of the valleys in winter. In unfrozen boggy places, runners from springs, or any open streamlets of water, they are often found Moore. in considerable numbers.* Coreopsis procosa. St. Fintan, or Munnu, Abbot, in Ire land, A. D. 634. THE SEASON. After a harvest with a good barley crop, a few minutes may be seasonably amused by a pleasant ballad. John Barleycorn. There went three kings into the east, They took a plough and plough'd him down, Put clods upon his head, And they hae sworn a solemn oath But the cheerful spring came kindly on, John Barleycorn got up again, The sultry suns of summer came, And he grew thick and strong, His head weel arm'd wi' pointed spears, That no one should him wrong. The sober autumn enter'd mild, When he grew wan and pale; His colour sicken'd more and more, To show their deadly rage. They laid him down upon his back, They laid him out upon the floor, They wasted, o'er a scorching flame, For he crush'd him between two stones. They who think the affections are always in season, may not deem these lines out of season. TRIBUTE OF AFFECTION. To a Mother. In the sweet "days of other years," And anxious doubts for me; Those happy hours are past away, For oh! it gave thee birth; * Butler. And thy approving voice would be My childish griefs were hush'd to rest, Those lips on mine fond kisses prest, Those arms my feeble form carest, When few a thought bestow'dWhen sickness threw its venom'd dart, My pillow was thy aching heartThy gentle looks could joy impart, With angel love they glow'd. This world is but a troubled sea, Yet my frail bark must shipwreck'd be, Or send an orison on high, That begs not blessings from the sky, That heav'n will hear a daughter's sigh, And long thy life defend. FLORAL DIRECTORY. Besides his other perfections he was a queller of earthquakes. Butler instances that "Theophanes, and other Greek historians, tell us that a child was taken up into the air, and heard angels singing the Trisagion, or triple doxology," which is "in the preface of the mass;" and that therefore St. Proclus "taught the people Three-leaved Silphium. Silphium trifo- to sing it:" he says that it is at least liatum. was The annals of the saints are confused. St. Severin, Abp. of Cologne, is famous in the history of the church: by him, his own diocese, and that of Tongres, purged from the venom of the Arian heresy, about the year 390." He "knew by revelation the death and glory of St. Martin at the time of his departure," and died about 400. So says Butler, who immediately begins with "Another St. Severin or Surin, patron of Bourdeaux," said by some "to have come to Bourdeaux from some part of the east ;" and by others, to have been "the same with the foregoing archbishop of Cologne." It is difficult to make a distinction when we find "two single gentlemen rolled into agreed, that on their singing it the earthquakes ceased." Butler represents the style of this father to be "full of lively witty turns, more proper to please and delight than to move the heart." Twenty of his homilies were published at Rome in 1630, whereof "the first, fifth, and sixth are upon the blessed Virgin Mary, whose title of Mother of God," says Butler, "he justly extols." He wrote upon mysterious theology and the church festivals, and was a great disputant. |