No snatching at all,

Sirs, hearken now all.

No lurching, no snatching, no striving at all;
Lest one go without, and another have all.
Declare after supper-take heed thereunto,
What work in the morning each servant shall do.

After-Supper Matters.

Thy soul hath a clog;

Forget not thy dog.

Remember those children, whose parents be poor, Which hunger, yet dare not to crave at thy door. Thy bandog, that serveth for divers mishaps, Forget not to give him thy bones and thy scraps. Make keys to be keepers,

To bed, ye sleepers.

Where mouths be many to spend that thou hast,
Set keys to be keepers, for spending too fast.
To bed after supper, let drowsy go sleep,
Lest knave in the dark to his marrow do creep.
Keep keys as thy life ;

Fear candle, good wife.

Such keys lay up safe, ere ye take ye to rest,
Of dairy, of buttery, of cupboard and chest.
Fear candle in hayloft, in barn, and in shed,
Fear flea-smock and mendbreech, for burning their

bed.

See door lockt fast,

Two keys make wast.

A door without lock is a bait for a knave,
A lock without key is a fool that will have.
One key to two locks, if it break is a grief;
Two keys to one lock, in the end is a thief.

Night works trouble head,
Lock doors, and to bed.

The day willeth done, whatsoever ye bid,
The night is a thief, if ye take not good heed.
Wash dishes, lay leavens, save fire, and away,
Lock doors and to bed, a good huswife will say.
To bed know thy guise,

To rise do likewise.

In winter at nine, and in summer at ten,
To bed after supper, both maidens and men.
In winter, at five a clock, servant arise,
In summer at four, is very good guise.
Love so as ye may

Love many a day.

Be lowly, not sullen, if aught go amiss,

What wresting may lose thee, that win with a kiss. Both bear and forbear, now and then as ye may, Then wench, God a mercy! thy husband will say.

MENDLESHAM GAMES,

1735.

-His nam Plebecula gaudet. Hor.

Mendlesham was formerly a market-town of some importance, and is situated in a deep miry soil, near the source of the river Deben. The place itself is mean, but the church is a handsome structure, with a lofty embattled tower. The two porches are fine, and richly ornamented, particularly that on the north side; on the top of which are four well-sculptured grotesque figures. It was given by King William Rufus to the

Abbot and Convent of Battle, in Sussex, who had the impropriation and advowson of the vicarage till the dissolution. Hugh Fitz Otho procured the privelege of a market and fair from King Edward the 1st, the latter of which it still retains annually on the 21st of September. The lordship of this town was formerly vested in the family of Duke, but now belongs to that of Tyrell.

Towards the conclusion of the 17th century, an ancient silver crown, weighing about 60 ounces, and conjectured to have belonged to one of the East Anglian Kings, was found here. A gold concave ring, with an inscription in the Sclavonian, or Runic character, was also ploughed up here in 1758, of which a description, with a plate, is given in the Gent. Mag. Vol. 54. Pt. 2. p. 975. Camden supposes Mendlesham to have been the residence of Dagobert, one of the Kings of the Heptarchy.

On a brass plate in the church is "An Account of "Houses and Lands, given in Charity to the Parish "Church of Mendlesham, in the County of Suffolk, "taken July 25. 1807," and which then let, collectively, for £266 per annum. "The rent and profits "of the said Houses and Lands are annually received by the Churchwardens of the said Parish for the "time being, and by them laid out and expended in "repairing the said Church, the Yard, House, and Buildings on the said Church Estates, in paying the "Schoolmaster's Salary, and assisting the poor and needy persons belonging to the said Parish."

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ONCE on a time, in town renown'd of yore
For weekly market, market now no more,
Where Sallows sets his razor to a hair,
And Killet's cyder bounces brisk and clear;
Cyder, the muses fav'rite drink, inspires
To sing a subject all mankind admires;
The Holland Smock a tapster here displays,
To tempt the light-heel'd damsels to the race,

In hopes to make his barrels faster run,
And draw the country to his ale o brown:
Hence, tho' the sunny season call'd to work,
Bridget her rake throws by, and John his fork,
The neighb'ring villages pour'd forth their youth,
And
age itself was there with his colt's tooth.
For who cou'd stay away, when Gunnel's seen,
A rural goddess on the crowded green?
Havors and Batt, and many more, remain,
Maids that might follow in Diana's train.
And now the sun had shorten'd his career,
When on the lists two nymphs in draw'rs appear ;
Cook, who full oft had triumph'd in the field,
Whose sturdy make to man wou'd hardly yield;
Her well known fame dismay'd the softer sex,
So only one oppos'd, instead of six.

Nor will our landlord give his smock away
So cheap, 'tis kept to grace some future day :
But to requite the country for their loves,
He graciously bestows a pair of gloves,

Which Cook must wear, with ease she gains the goal,

Whilst Blomfield follows like a filly foal;
Blomfield, too young, but yet, if right I see,
What Cook is now, in time shall Blomfield be.
So have we seen a greyhound and her young
Stretch o'er the lawn, and drive poor puss along ;
The first year's running this of that fell short,
But turn for turn next season show'd us sport.
Thus time will put our organs out of tune,
As all things change which lie beneath the moon.
Blomfield and Cook must with old age decline,
And tho' no leg be slipt, their speed resign :

Flannel shall hold, when holland smock shall fail,
Or only serve for chimney corner tale.

Swift winged time will over-take, and death
Will run the longest winded out of breath;

But hark! what shouts from the next yard resound;
'Tis the twelve champions of the nine-pin ground.
Good bowlers all, and honest men, I hope,
And he that is not, let him win a rope.
Burroughs and Rednal fill the judge's seat,
And cock their pipes with gravity and state;
Three times the bowl is sent from every hand,
But Chittock's fortune did most pins command:
Chittock exults, victorious, in the throng.

Now some trudge homeward, some their mirth prolong

With double mugs, and grateful whiffs of smoke,
And the house roars with many a rustic joke.
Nor was Crowdero wanting with his kit,
To take advantage of the merry fit,

To screw the maidens heartstrings up to love,
And show their swains how gracefully they move;
The swains before had play'd the wrestler's part,
Το
prove
their manhood to each kind sweetheart
By a hard fall, which, if the truth were known,
Is scarce so taking as a soft green gown.
But stay, my maids, till Michaelmas be come,
Now mind your spinning, and encrease the sum
To recommend you to a thrifty spouse,
To buy the wedding ring, and fetch the cows.
Till the feast day let each reserve her feast,
And Joan shall then be equal with the best.