54 AN ANGLER'S BASKET. 



Yorkshire valley some years ago, a famous village character 

 sexton, tailor, barber, bell ringer, and general factotum gave 

 me an illustration of the fact that the ways of an older world 

 still linger in the remote parts of the Yorkshire valleys. " Ye 

 can't think where I've been to-night ?'" said Tom. " Ye see 

 yon road," pointing to a spot about three miles distant on the 

 southern slope of Pen-y-ghent, " I've been to meet a man 

 there 'at cum six miles on t' other side of t' hill to be 

 measured for a suit of clothes. I'm to tak t' suit up yonder 

 by next Saturday night and he will come and try 'em on, and 

 if they fit he'll tak 'em home." " And is this all to go on on 

 the roadside, Tom ? " " Ay ! for sure ; do ye think we are 

 bahn to build a fitting room up yon for t' job ? " 



' V 



^ & 



A friend of mine was driving along a road in Craven when 

 his attention was attracted by a mighty cawing in a field, 

 and looking over a high stone wall he beheld an assemblage 

 of all the crows of the neighbourhood. The most burly and 

 venerable were arranged in a semi-circular line having a clear 

 space in front, and in the space and about the centre of it two 

 crows held an apparent culprit firmly by the wing. He was 

 apparently up for trial for doing some deed the nature of 

 which did not appear. The space behind the semi-circle of 

 judges was filled up by the crow public, who were loud in 

 their clamouring for summary justice on the offender, and 

 after a mighty parley and probable quoting of precedents and 

 such like, the whole assemblage arose as one crow and went 

 for the unfortunate rascal between the twin gaolers, and 

 plucked him limb from limb. Having done this, the business 

 was concluded, the court adjourned, and the crowd dispersed 

 to their ordinary avocations. 



& * 



Many years ago at Udford, on the Eamont, a then 

 well-known fisherman hooked a young otter with a spinning 



