machines. These came down, were set to work, and no gold was then found. The makers of the machines had introduced gold-dust into the water that was used in the washing of the crushed stone. I made use of this incident in my novel John Herring.
But to return to the singers. Here is a song of local origin, which, however, I did not obtain from these South Zeal singers. I must premise that the local pronunciation of Okehampton is Ockington.
At Ockington, in Devonshire,
Old vayther lived vor many a year.
And I along wi' he did dwell
Nigh Dartimoor 'tes knawed vull well.
Diddle-diddle-dee.
It happ'nd on a zartain day,
Vour score o' sheep—they rinned astray.
Zeth vayther, Jack go arter'n, yū.
Zez I—Be darned if ee'r I du.
Diddle-diddle-dee.
Purvoked at my saacy tongue,
A dish o' braath at me he flung.
Then fu' o' wrath, as poppy red
I knacked old vayther on the head.
Diddle-diddle-dee.
Then drayed wor I to Ex't'r jail,
There to be tried—allowed no bail,
And at next Easter 'zizes I
Condemned was therefor to die.
Diddle-diddle-dee.
Young men and maydens all, I pray
Take warnin' by my tragedy.
Rin arter sheep when they are strayed,
And don't knack vaythers on the 'cad.
Diddle-diddle-dee.
