"This develops a curious practice of antiquity. You know, Edric, I explained to you just now the manner in which combustion was formerly effected, and the causes of the production of what was called smoke. I own, however, it seems a strange way of reviving a half-suffocated man, to hold his head over smoke, which, being loaded, as I said before, with innumerable atoms of all sorts and sizes, would, one might think be more likely to impede respiration than restore it. The fact, however, is undoubted; and it not only affords a curious illustration of the manner of the ancients, but is of itself a strong proof of the authenticity of the ballad; for such an idea never could have entered the head of a modern. To return to poor Hyde-- 'One gave him a kick o' th' stomach, And another a thump o' th' brow, His wife cried throw him i' th' stable, And he will be better just now.' This unfeeling conduct of his wife does not say much in commendation of the ladies of those times. Here follows an hiatus of several stanzas: I find, however, by a word or two here and there, that they celebrated the exploits of two gallic heroes:-- 'The best i' th' country bred; The one was a brassy-wing black, And the other a dusky-wing'd red.' These unfortunate victims of the cruelty of man seem both to have perished. There is a stanza, however, before this catastrophe, which seems to relate to the combat. 'The conflict was hard upon each, Till glossy-wing'd blacky was choked, The colliers were nationally vex'd, And the nailers were all provoked.' This passage seems very obscure: 'Nationally' is evidently a sign of comparison, but I cannot say I ever saw it employed before. It is, however, another proof of the amazing antiquity of the ballad. After this, it appears that the people broke in upon the ring, and both cocks were crushed to atoms. I don't know whether you are acquainted with the manner in which these gallic combats were conducted, Edric. A kind of amphitheatre was formed, upon which the birds were pitted one against the other, whence the name cock-pit. The combatants were armed with large iron spurs, and the victor generally left his rival dead upon the field. The ballad proceeds:-- 'The cock-pit was near to the church, As an ornament to the town; One side was an old coal-pit, And the other was well gorsed round.' Gorse was a kind of heath or furze. 'Peter Hadley peep'd through the gorse, In order to see the cocks fight; Spittle jobb'd his eye out with a fork, And said, "Blast you, it sarves you right."' This is very spirited and expressive, though the false quantities render it difficult to read. 'Some folks may think this is strange, Who Wednesbury never knew, But those who have ever been there, Won't have the least doubt but it's true.