A DAY WITH AN ARTIFICIAL 131 



that stands a little distance away from the river, but in the 

 immediate locality. In the old days, since I can remember, 

 the curfew bell used to be rung every evening in many 

 country churches, Girton among the number. One cold 

 winter's night, as midnight struck, the villagers near the 

 church were more than startled and alarmed to hear the 

 deep tolling of the curfew bell. Tradition says that every 

 man jack of them cuddled under the bedclothes in mortal 

 fear, nor dared stir an inch. Something dreadful was sure 

 to happen ; supernatural agency was at work sure enough. 

 In the morning a few venturesome souls solved the mystery. 

 The porch in which hung the bell-ropes was open to the 

 churchyard and the adjoining meadow ; the hemp sally 

 of the bell rope had worn out, and the sexton had replaced 

 it with a handful or two of good sweet and fresh hay, and 

 a cottager's cow having strayed in, smelt out that tit-bit, 

 and in dragging it away bit by bit from the rope tolled the 

 bell ; and so the saying was current for years and years at 

 that village : " Grinning Girton ; where the cow ate the 

 bell-rope." 



We now cross the ferry and go along by Sutton Holmes ; 

 and all this water is, or was, very fast running, and not at 

 all suitable for the sport now on hand, so we keep along 

 the bank until we get to Clifton and Marnham. There are 

 one or two good places just above here that are worth 

 trying ; while the famous Putty Nob and Land-o'-Cakes 

 swims appeal to the holiday barbel fishermen with no 

 uncertain voice. We cross the river at Marnham Ferry, 

 and soon after this there is a stretch of water that is worth 

 spending a day on. The river here makes a huge semi- 

 circular sweep, with more than one quiet lagoon and lay- 

 by, while deep holes are more in evidence in those couple 

 of miles than in more than twice the distance in the water 

 above. We give this a fair trial, try the whole of our four 

 artificials ; chop and change them about, but no go ; 

 finally we go back to the old Clipper, and in the run of 

 water between the turnpost and the cliff at the corner of 



