And now for his Legend, which, if the facts took place rather beyond "the memory of the oldest inhabitant," are yet well known to have occurred in the neighbourhood "once on a time;" and the scene of them will be readily pointed out by any one of the fifty intelligent fly-drivers who ply upon the pier, and who will convey you safely to the spot for a guerdon which they term "three bob." THE SMUGGLER'S LEAP. A LEGEND OF THANET. "Near this hamlet (Acol) is a long-disused chalk-pit of formidable depth, known by the name of "The Smuggler's leap." The tradition of the parish runs, that a riding-officer from Sandwich, called Anthony Gill, lost his life here in the early part of the present (last) century, while in pursuit of a smuggler. A fog coming on, both parties went over the precipice. The smuggler's horse _only_, it is said, was found crushed beneath its rider. The spot has, of course, been haunted ever since." _See "Supplement to Lewis's History of Thanet, by the Rev. Samuel Pegge, A.M., Vicar of Gomersham." W. Bristow, Canterbury, 1796, p. 127._ The fire-flash shines from Reculver cliff, And the answering light burns blue in the skiff, And there they stand That smuggling band, Some in the water, and some on the sand, Ready those contraband goods to land; The night is dark, they are silent and still, --At the head of the party is Smuggler Bill! "Now lower away! come, lower away! We must be far ere the dawn of the day. If Exciseman Gill should get scent of the prey, And should come, and should catch us here, what would he say? Come, lower away, lads--once on the hill, We'll laugh, ho! ho! at Exciseman Gill!" The cargo's lower'd from the dark skiff's side, And the tow-line drags the tubs through the tide, No trick nor flam, But your real Schiedam. "Now mount, my merry men, mount and ride!" Three on the crupper and one before, And the led-horse laden with five tubs more; But the rich point-lace, In the oil-skin case Of proof to guard its contents from ill, The "prime of the swag," is with Smuggler Bill! Merrily now, in a goodly row, Away, and away, those smugglers go, And they laugh at Exciseman Gill, ho! ho! When out from the turn Of the road to Herne, Comes Gill, wide awake to the whole concern! Exciseman Gill, in all his pride, With his Custom-house officers all at his side; --They were called Custom-house officers then; There were no such things as "Preventive men."