inaugurated, by a bazaar, a scheme for the much needed restoration of this church, in which, it is to be hoped, he may be successful. On the south side of the church is the base, and part of the shaft, of a churchyard cross. Upon the former, several shields are cut; one of these, within a quatrefoil panel, bears three bars in pale, four mullets bendwise; and upon another is the same bearing, impaling a cinquefoil, between 6 crosses plain. These were the Thimbleby bearings. Tetford has been the scene of traditionary witchcraft, the following anecdote having been related by a quondam inhabitant, whose widow still survives. It has some resemblance to the story of the phantom hare at Bolingbroke Castle. Once upon a time, there lived in Tetford an old woman possessed of magical powers. It was said that she could assume the form of a hare, and, emerging from her cottage through the “cat hole” in the door, could roam the country round at will. She had a son who was given to poaching. The events on a particular occasion are recorded as follows: “Two men are walking on the road from Somersby to Tetford in the evening; one carries a gun. Just in front a hare passes through the hedge, and comes into the road. “Bang at her, Jack,” says Joe. Jack puts gun to shoulder, and aims, but for some reason, does not fire. He lowers his gun, then tries again, but with the same result. “Dal it, Joe,” says Jack, “I cannot; summat stops me. Tack thou the gun!” Joe seizes the gun, but the hare is, by this time, nearly out of shot. However, he fires, and exclaims, “Its noa goa, she’s hit i’ the leg, but it woant stop her.” They quicken their steps, lest the shot might have attracted a keeper. Jack goes to the cottage where his mother lives, while Joe goes to his home further down the “street.” Jack goes to the pantry and empties a very roomy pocket, inside his fustian coat, of its contents, we will not say what. He brings out a mug of ale, and sits down by the fire, to enjoy it. His mother is sitting on the other side of the fire, rather doubled up in her chair, and with a look of pain on her wrinkled face, “What’s up Mother?” asks Jack. “I’ve a bad pain i’ my leg,” she says, “it came on all of a sudden, a few minutes ago.” “Rub it wi’ some o’ them oils ye’ve got,” says Jack; “Let’s hev supper, and then ye’d better goa to bed.” “I’ve hed my supper,” she says, “ye were so long o’ coming, that I did’nt wait o’ ye, an’ I’ll goa to bed now.” She gets up with difficulty, hobbles across the room, and slowly mounts the “lether” (ladder) to her bedroom. Jack gets his supper, and then goes out to the ale-house not far off, for a final pot, and chat, before “turning in.” There he meets Joe, and they have a pipe together. In the course of conversation Jack says, “Mother’s bad i’ the leg, she was ta’en all of a sudden a little afore I comed hoam.” Joe laughs, and says, “I’d upode it, she’s bewitched hersen,