Page:The Folk-Lore Journal Volume 1 1883.djvu/387

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MONMOUTHSHIRE NOTES.
379

still in several places (so prevalent is long habit) the bearers frequently carry the coffin through the northern aisle."—Vol. i. p. 193.

Skyrrid.—"To this place many Roman Catholics in the vicinity are said to repair annually on Michaelmas Eve to perform their devotions. The earth of this spot is likewise considered as sacred, and was formerly carried away to cure diseases and to sprinkle on the coffins of those who were interred; but whether this superstitious practice still continues I was not able to ascertain."—Vol. i. p. 199.

The author refers to a book entitled A Geographical, Historical, and Religious Account oj the Parish of Aherystruth in the county of Monmouth. . . . . . By Edward Jones, 1779, in which there is much about fairies, written from the point of view of a sincere believer in their existence.—Vol. ii. p. 249.

"Among the early specimens of his [John of Rent's] magical skill, while a farmer's boy in the vicinity he confined a number of crows, which he was ordered to keep from the corn, in an old barn without a roof, that he might visit Grosmont fair. 'And sure enough,' said the old woman who told me the anecdote, 'they were there, for they made a terrible clatter, and would not fly away till Jack himself came and released them.' "—Vol. ii. p. 337.

A parallel legend is told of the Hermit of Lindholme, on Hatfield Chase, Yorkshire, near Doncaster. When a boy he was left at home by his parents to keep the sparrows from the corn while they went to Hatfield feast. They had not been long there when they observed their son amusing himself among a crowd of boys. On their remonstrating with him for his disobedience, the boy told them that he had shut up all the sparrows in the barn. "How can that be?" inquired the father, "thoo knaws that the barn hasn't hed a door to it for the last twelvemonth." "No, but I reared a harrow in the doorstead," replied the young miracle-worker, "and none of 'em can get through it." And so sure enough it was. When the father and mother got home all the sparrows were lying dead on the barn floor, and there never has been a sparrow seen there since, except one, and that was as white as snow.

Bottesford Manor, Brigg.

3 September, 1883,