The “Hobby-horse Pairs,” as it was called, _i.e._ a party of eight men, then repaired to the “Golden Lion,” at that time the first inn in Padstow, and sat down to a hearty supper off leg of mutton and plum-pudding, given them by the landlord. After supper a great many young men joined the “Pairs,” _i.e._ the _peers_, the lords of the merriment, and all started for the country, and went round from one farmhouse to another, singing at the doors of each, and soliciting contributions to the festivities of the morrow. They returned into Padstow about three o’clock in the morning, and promenaded the streets singing the “Night Song.” After that they retired to rest for a few hours. At ten o’clock in the morning the “Pairs” assembled at the “Golden Lion” again, and now was brought forth the hobby-horse. The drum and fife band was marshalled to precede, and then came the young girls of Padstow dressed in white, with garlands of flowers in their hair, and their white gowns pinned up with flowers. The men followed armed with pistols, loaded with a little powder, which they fired into the air or at the spectators. Lastly came the hobby-horse, ambling, curvetting, and snapping its jaws. It may be remarked that the Padstow hobby-horse is wonderfully like the Celtic horse decoration found on old pillars and crosses with interlaced work. The procession went first to Prideaux Place, where the late squire, Mr. Prideaux Brune, always emptied a purse of money into the hands of the “Pairs.” Then the procession visited the vicarage, and was welcomed by the parson. After that it went forth from the town to Treator Pool “for the horse to drink.” The Mayers finally arrived at the Maypole, and danced round it singing the “Day Song.” _Refrain._ “Awake, S. George, our English knight, O! For summer is a-come, and winter is a-go. 1. “Where is S. George? and where is he, O? He’s down in his long boat, upon the salt sea, O! 2. “Where are the French dogs that made such a boast, O? They shall eat the goose feathers, and we’ll eat the roast, O! 3. “Thou might’st ha’ shown thy knavish face and tarried at home, O! But thou shalt be a rascal, and shalt wear the horns, O! 4. “Up flies the kite, down falls the lark, O! Aunt Ursula Birdwood she had an old ewe. 5. “Aunt Ursula Birdwood she had an old ewe, And she died in her own park long ago.” It is obvious that the song is very corrupt, but the air to this and to the “Morning Song” are very bold and ancient.[15] Although the Maypole has been given up, the hobby-horse still prances on May Day. Padstow Harbour is spoiled by the Doom Bar, a shifting bank of sand at the mouth. But this might be placed under control and rectified by the expenditure of money, and the mouth of the Hayle be made into what is sorely needed, a harbour of refuge on the north coast.