In a nice little village not far from the sea, Still lives my old uncle aged eighty and three; Of orchards and meadows he owns a good lot, Such cyder as his--not another has got. Then fill up the jug, boys, and let it go round, Of drinks not the equal in England is found. So pass round the jug, boys, and pull at it free, There’s nothing like cyder, sparkling cyder, for me. My uncle is lusty, is nimble and spry, As ribstones his cheeks, clear as crystal his eye, His head snowy white as the flowering may, And he drinks only cyder by night and by day. Then fill up the jug, etc. O’er the wall of the churchyard the apple trees lean And ripen their burdens, red, golden, and green. In autumn the apples among the graves lie; “There I’ll sleep well,” says uncle, “when fated to die.” Then fill up the jug, etc. “My heart as an apple, sound, juicy, has been, My limbs and my trunk have been sturdy and clean; Uncankered I’ve thriven, in heart and in head, So under the apple trees lay me when dead.” Then fill up the jug, etc. THE ALPHINGTON PONIES During the forties of last century, every visitor to Torquay noticed two young ladies of very singular appearance. Their residence was in one of the two thatched cottages on the left of Tor Abbey Avenue, looking seaward, very near the Torgate of the avenue. Their chief places of promenade were the Strand and Victoria Parade, but they were often seen in other parts of the town. Bad weather was the only thing that kept them from frequenting their usual beat. They were two Misses Durnford, and their costume was peculiar. The style varied only in tone and colour. Their shoes were generally green, but sometimes red. They were by no means bad-looking girls when young, but they were so berouged as to present the appearance of painted dolls. Their brown hair worn in curls was fastened with blue ribbon, and they wore felt or straw hats, usually tall in the crown and curled up at the sides. About their throats they had very broad frilled or lace collars that fell down over their backs and breasts a long way. But in summer their necks were bare, and adorned with chains of coral or bead. Their gowns were short, so short indeed as to display about the ankles a good deal more than was necessary of certain heavily-frilled cotton investitures of their lower limbs. In winter over their gowns were worn check jackets of a “loud” pattern reaching to their knees, and of a different colour from their gowns, and with lace cuffs. They were never seen, winter or summer, without their sunshades. The only variation to the jacket was a gay-coloured shawl crossed over the bosom and tied behind at the waist. [Illustration: THE MISSES DURNFORD. THE ALPHINGTON PONIES _From a Lithograph_]