At Stretton in Hertfordshire, in anno 1648, when King Charles I. Was prisoner, the tenant of the Manor-House there sold excellent cyder to gentlemen of the neighbourhood; where they met privately, and could discourse freely, and be merry, in those days so troublesome to the loyal party. Among others that met, there was old Mr. Hill. B. D. parson of the parish, Quondam Fellow of Brazen-Nose college in Oxford. This venerable good old man, one day (after his accustomed fashion) standing up, with his head uncovered to drink his majesty's health, saying, "God bless our Gracious Sovereign," as he was going to put the cup to his lips, a swallow flew in at the window, and pitched on the brim of the little earthen cup(not half a pint) and sipt, and so flew out again. This was in the presence of the aforesaid parson Hill, Major Gwillim, and two or three more, that I knew very well then, my neighbours, and whose joint testimony of it I have had more than once, in that very room. It was in the bay-window in the parlour there; Mr. Hill's back was next to the window. I cannot doubt of the veracity of the witnesses. This is printed in some book that I have seen, I think in Dr. Fuller's Worthies. The cup is preserved there still as a rarity. In Dr. Bolton's Sermons, is an account of the Lady Honywood, who despaired of her salvation. Dr. Bolton endeavoured to comfort her: said she, (holding a Venice-glass in her hand) I shall as certainly be damned, as this glass will be broken: and at that word, threw it hard on the ground; and the glass remained sound; which did give her great comfort. The glass is yet preserved among the Cimelia of the family. This lady lived to see descended from her (I think) ninety, which is mentioned by Dr. Bolton. William Backhouse, of Swallowfield in Berkshire, Esq. had an ugly scab that grew on the middle of his forehead, which had been there for some years, and he could not be cured; it became so nauseous, that he would see none but his intimate friends: he was a learned gentleman, a chymist, and antiquary: his custom was, once every summer to travel to see Cathedrals, Abbeys, Castles, &c. In his journey, being come to Peterborough, he dreamt there, that he was in a church and saw a hearse, and that one did bid him wet his scab, with the drops of the marble. The next day he went to morning-service, and afterwards going about the church, he saw the very hearse (which was of black say, for Queen Katherine, wife to King Henry VIII.) and the marble grave-stone by. He found drops on the marble, and there were some cavities, wherein he dipt his finger, and wetted the scab: in seven days it was perfectly cured. This accurate and certain information, I had from my worthy friend Elias Ashmole, Esq. who called Mr. Backhouse father, and had this account from his own mouth. May-Dew is a great dissolvent.