I wot not of; and possibly it is not altogether wise to dismiss as absolute nonsense every item of country folk-lore one comes upon. I always jot such sayings down in my note-book, and shall soon have quite a collection of them. I remember one simple remedy that a farmer's wife told me of when a youngster, which, boy-like, I at once tried—and actually found it effectual! Some of the country-*folk's cures, however, may be considered worse than the disease. Here, for instance, is one for baldness that I have not tested: "Rub well the bald parts with a fresh onion just cut, twice a day, for ten minutes at a time at least; and you must never miss a rubbing till the hair begins to grow again"!
Leaving Water Newton we drove on through a level country, passing in about a mile or so some ancient stocks and a whipping-post on a grassy corner by the roadside; these had been painted manifestly to preserve them as a curiosity. Some day, like ducking-stools and scolds' gags, they will possibly only be found in a museum. According to a paragraph in a local paper that I extracted the gist of on the journey, the last time that a man was condemned to the stocks in England was at the village of Newbold-on-Avon in Warwickshire late in this century. The man in question was a confirmed drunkard, and the magistrates fined him 7s. 6d. with the option of being placed in the stocks: the drunkard chose the stocks which he well knew were decayed and unfit for use; so they were forthwith repaired at some expense, which being done the man suddenly found the money for the fine and so
