The following extracts are taken from old Suffolk songs which have descended from father to son for generations. They are typical of many more that might be given:— Here’s a health to our master, The founder of the feast! God bless his endeavours And send him increase. {257} Now our harvest is ended And supper is past, Here’s our mistress’ good health In a full flowing glass! She is a good woman,— She prepared us good cheer; Come all my brave boys, And drink off your beer. Drink, my boys, drink until you come unto me, The longer we sit, my boys, the merrier shall we be! In yon green wood there lies an old fox, Close by his den you may catch him, or no; Ten thousand to one you catch him, or no. His beard and his brush are all of one colour,— (_Takes the glass and empties it off._) I am sorry, kind sir, that your glass is no fuller. ’Tis down the red lane! ’tis down the red lane! So merrily hunt the fox down the red lane!” There is another version of these concluding lines:— Down the red lane there lives an old fox, There does he sit a-mumping his chops: Catch him, boys, catch him, catch if you can; ’Tis twenty to one if you catch him or Nan. The red lane is the throat, and the fox is the tongue. A favourite old Norfolk harvest-home song was “The Pye upon the Pear Tree Top,” the following version of which is taken from Mr. Rye’s admirable _History of Norfolk_:— The pye upon the pear-tree top, (_The singer holds up a glass of beer_) The pear-tree top—the pear-tree top, I hold you a crown she is coming down. (_Brings down the glass slowly_) She is coming down, she is coming down, I hold you a crown she is come down. (_Offers the glass to his right-hand neighbour._) {258} She _is_ come down, she _is_ come down, So lift up your elbow, and hold up your chin, And let your neighbour joggle it in. The drinker then tries to drink, and his neighbour tries to prevent him. During the evening one of the reapers, who had been chosen as “lord,” would retire from the table, and, putting on a kind of mummer’s garb, return, calling “Lar-gess.” He then carried a hat or plate round and collected money to prolong the jollification at the village alehouse. A laughable custom prevalent at Sussex harvest-homes, was the following: Each person at the table—perhaps twenty or thirty men—had to drink, without spilling, a glass of ale placed on the top of a tall hat; when he had finished, he must toss the glass up in the air and catch it in the hat as it fell. Sometimes a man would fail four or five times, and at length get too drunk even to try. Meantime the company kept up the refrain:— I’ve been to London, I’ve been to Dover, I’ve been a rambling, boys, all the world over, Over, over, over and over, Drink up the liquor and turn the bowl over.