"_Second Course._ 1. Jellies of all sorts. 2. A dish of Pheasants. 3. A Pike boyled. 4. An oyster pye. 5. A dish of Plovers. 6. A dish of larks. 7. A Joll of Sturgeon. 8. A couple of Lobsters. 9. A lamber pye. 10. A couple of Capons. 11. A dish of Partridges. 12. A fricacy of Fowls. 13. A dish of Wild Ducks. 14. A dish of cram'd chickens. 15. A dish of stewed oysters. 16. A Marchpane. 17. A dish of Fruits. 18. An umble pye." The fare suggested for "Fish days" is no less various and abundant; twelve dishes are enumerated for the first course, and sixteen for the second. Looking at the character of these viands, some of which would not discredit the genius of a Soyer or a Mrs. Glasse, {55} it seems pretty evident that in the article of food the labouring classes have been the greatest gainers since 1687. Few things are more suggestive of queries--as everybody knows from experience--than the products of culinary art. I will not, however, further trespass on space which may be devoted to a more dignified topic, than by submitting the following. _Query._--Does the phrase "to eat humble pie," used to signify a forced humiliation, owe its origin to the "umble pye" specified above? J.T. HAMMACK * * * * * BISHOP BARNABY. Mr. Editor,--Legour asks, why the people in Suffolk call a lady-bird "Bishop Barnaby?" I give the following from the late Major Moor's _Suffolk Words_. "Bishop-Barney. The golden bug. See Barnabee. In Tasser's _Ten Unwelcome Guests in the Dairy_, he enumerates 'the Bishop that burneth' (pp. 142. 144.), in an ambiguous way, which his commentator does not render at all clear. I never heard of this calumniated insect being an unwelcome guest in the dairy; but Bishop-Barney, or Burney, and Barnabee, or Burnabee, and Bishop-that-burneth, seem, in the absence of explanation to be nearly related--in sound at any rate. Under _Barnabee_ it will be seen that _burning_ has some connection with the history of this pretty insect." "Barnabee," writes the Major, "the golden-bug, or lady-bird; also Bishop-Barney: which see. This pretty little, and very useful insect, is tenderly regarded by our children. One settling on a child is always sent away with this sad valediction:-- "Gowden-bug, gowden-bug, fly away home, Yar house is bahnt deown and yar children all gone." To which I add another nursery doggerel less sad:-- "Bishop, Bishop-Barnabee, Tell me when your wedding be, If it be to-morrow day Take your wings and fly away." The Major adds, "It is sure to fly off on the third repetition." "Burnt down," continues the Major, "gives great scope to our country euphonic twang, altogether inexpressible in type; _bahnt deeyown_ comes as near to it as my skill in orthography will allow." Ray, in his _South and East Country Words_, has this:--