Some years since, there lived a gentleman in Tavistock, very charitably disposed, who entertained an especial good will and kind feeling towards old sailors. Any old sailor, by calling at his door, received the donation of a shilling and a glass of grog. It was marvellous to see what a number of veteran blue jackets paid him a visit in the course of a year. At last, the servant who opened the door observed that all these sons of the sea had a particular patch on one and the same arm. She began, at length, to fancy that the old patch must be some badge of honour in the service, yet she thought it a very odd distinction in his Majesty's navy. The circumstance awakened her suspicion. The next old blue jacket that appeared, decorated with the order of the patch, was therefore watched and followed to his retreat. He was observed to retire to the house of a certain old woman, and in a little while he was seen to come forth again in his own natural character, that of a street beggar, clothed in rags. The cheat was apparent; and suffice it to say, that on further examination it appeared that the old woman's house was one of friendly call to all the vagabonds and sharpers who paced the country round; and that amongst other masquerade attire for the callers, she kept by her a sailor's old jacket and trousers for the purpose of playing off the imposition. No doubt she was paid for the loan of the dress. At Tavistock, also, there resided a strange character in humble life, named Carter Foote. On returning from Oakhampton, he remounted his horse, after having enjoyed himself at the public-house, and attempted to pass the river below the bridge by fording it over. The day had been stormy, and from the sudden swell of the river he found himself in extreme danger. After endeavouring to struggle with the current he leaped from his horse upon a large piece of the rock, and there stood, calling aloud for help. Some person going by, ran and procured a rope, which he endeavoured to throw towards the rock; but finding it impossible to do so without further assistance, he begged two men belonging to Oakhampton, who drew near the spot, to give him help, and save the stranger, whose life was in so much peril. One of them, however, very leisurely looked at the sufferer, and only saying, "'Tis a Tav'stock man, let un go," walked off with his companion, and poor Carter Foote was drowned.