My father was not at home at the time, and when he did return to Lew he was so incensed at what had been done that he had the stocks broken up and thrown over the hedge into a ditch behind the churchyard on the north side. Many years after I sought there in hopes of recovering the stocks, but what remained of them had rotted. I may add that the execution of the sentence took place in the graveyard, which was crowded with villagers who generally sympathized with the culprit, and who had no great regard for Samuel with his thick skull and stiff neck, nor with Reed, who belonged to another parish.
Roberts went into the army, and I heard no more of him for many years till he returned to live on his pension upon Lew Down, but not in Lew parish, and there he died.
I am bound to apologize for this chapter of early reminiscences.
In January, 1923, I shall enter upon my 90th year.
If now I recall days long past, customs and superstitions now forgotten, I must be excused. The memory of remote days is precious to the old man, and should he disregard the fact that what interests him may not at the present day interest others pardon must be extended to him. The recollection of early days is like the sounding in the night hours of some old tune heard many years ago, not heard since, gladdening the spirit and bringing tears, if not into the eyes, yet into the chalice of the heart.
