BY the especial kindness of one who has a more abundant store of old Cornish stories than any man whom I have ever met, I am enabled to give some portion of one of the old Cornish plays, or guise-dances. Many parts are omitted, as they would, in our refined days, be considered coarse; but as preserving a true picture of a peculiar people, as they were a century and a half or two centuries since, I almost regret the omissions.
SCENE I.--The Squire's Kitchen--Duffy silting on the chimney-stool--Jane, the housekeeper, half drunk, holding fast by the table.
Jane. Oh, I am very bad, I must go to bed with the wind in my stomach. You can bake the pie. Duffy, and give the Squire his supper. Keep a good waking fire on the pie for an hour or more. Turn the glass again; when the sand is half down, take the fire from the kettle. Mind to have a good blazing fire in the hail, for the Squire will be as wet as a shag. The old fool, to stay out hunting with this flood of rain! Now, I 'll take a cup of still waters, and crawl away to bed.
Duffy. Never fear, I 'll bake the pie as well as if you were under the kettle along with it; so go to bed, Jane.
[As soon as Jane tur'ns her back, Huey Lenine (Lanyon) comes in with,--
Huey. What cheer, Duffy, my dear? how dost aw get on, then?
Duffy. Never the better for thee, I bla, Huey. What do bring thee here this time of night?