The Rev. Charles Slingsby 89 



First thing I saw was a great big mill, I'd never seen yon afore, 



There were winnies and jennies and slubbers and spinnies and wheels by mony a 



score, 

 And every strap had a wheel and every wheel had a strap. 

 " By gum," says I, " t' maisterman o'wd Harry's a rare strong chap." 



With a bumpsey bumpsey bay, etc. 



Next thing I saw were Leeds o'd Church, I'd nubbut been i' yon i' my days, 

 I felt almost ashamed of mysen, for I didn't know their ways. 

 There v/ere twenty or thirty folk i' tubs and boxes sat, 

 When up comes a' saucy old chap ; says he, " Lad, take off thy hat." 



With a bumpsey bumpsey, etc. 



And then there cam' a great lord mayor, and over his shoulder a club, 

 And he donned on a v/hite sack-poke and gat into t' topmost tub, 

 And then there came another chap and I think they called him Ned, 

 And he gat into t' bottommost tub and mocked what t'other chap said. 



With a bumpsey bumpsey, etc. 



And then they began to pray and to preach, they prayed for George our king, 

 Wlien up jumps chap in t' topmost tub, says he, " Good folk, let's sing." 

 And I thought some sang very well, while others did grunt and groan. 

 And everyone sang what they liked, so I sang " Bob and Joan." 



With a bumpsey bumpsey, etc. 



And when the praying and preaching were over and the folks were going away, 

 I went to the chap in t' bottommost tub ; says I, " Lad, what's to pay ? " 

 " Wliy, now't, my lad," says he ; by gum, I were right fane, 

 So I clicked hold of my old club stick and went whistling out again. 



With a bumpsey bumpsey, etc. 



Besides being able to sing a good song, Mr. Slingsby had, as 

 I have already stated, a fund of good stories, which he told well. 

 Once when coming out of church after a harvest festival one of 

 his parishioners attracted his attention to the number of stacks 

 in his yard, and with pride pointed to one, saying, " That one 

 is for butcher's meat — that one is for groceries " — then, coming 

 to the largest — " and that one is for Gin and Warter." 



History repeats itself, and I must continue now with the 

 sad story of how the Rev. Charles Slingsby ended his days in a 

 field on his own property while out with the York and Ainsty. 



On this occasion hounds had been taken to the Red House 

 Wood, which for generations has been the property of the 

 Slingsby s. After about a quarter of an hour a fox went away 

 on the south side ; hounds were laid on and began to run 

 sharply over Thickpenny Farm. The country was green and 

 fenced with strong thorns, well cut and laid. As usual, Mr. 

 Slingsby was going well to the front, and while putting his 

 liorse at one of these bound fences it pecked heavily, throwing 

 its rider on to his head with great force, breaking his neck. It 

 is believed that death was instantaneous. Most of the field had 



