They have some singular customs in these dales, not yet mentioned. One is, when a sow litters, they allow her to champ oats out of a beehive to make the bees lucky; and salt is thrown into the fire, with the same object, when the bees swarm. Another of their customs arises out of their spirit of good neighbourhood, and mutual accommodation. In sheep-shearing time, instead of every one shearing his flock solitarily, they combine together in troops, and go from farm to farm, till they have completed the whole, and celebrate the end of their labours at each house, over a good supper given by the master; in which a sweet pie, that is, a huge pie of legs of mutton cut small and seasoned with currants, raisins, candied peel and sugar, and covered with a rich crust, figures on the board, accompanied by another favourite dish of fresh fried trout, and collops of ham, succeeded by gooseberry, or as they call them, berry pasties, and curd cheesecakes, and strong drink in plenty: a fiddle and a dance concluding the entertainment. The sheep-washing as well as the shearing is accompanied by this jollity. In Deepdale, the farmers principally employ themselves at home in sorting and carding wool for knitting. They call it _welding_; and the fine locks, selected for the legs of the stockings, they call _leggin_, whilst the coarser part goes by the name of _footing_. Two old people, Laurence and Peggy Hodgson o’ Dockensyke, were both upwards of seventy, when Peggy died. As she lay on her death-bed, she said to her husband, “Laury, promise me ya thing,--at tou’ill not wed again when I’se gane.” “Peggy, my lass,” answered Laurence, “do not mak me promise nae sic thing; tou knaws I’se but young yet.” The old fellow did wed again, and his brother, on returning from the wedding, made this report of the bride:--“Why-a, she’s a rough ane. I’se welded her owre and owre, an’ I canna find a lock o’ leggin in her; she’s a’ footing.” Here then I close this second chapter of the nooks of the world, bearing grateful testimony that amongst the virtues of the dales-people, hospitality and attachment to their pleasant hills and valleys are pre-eminent. Wherever we went we found them only too happy to shew us all the beauties of their country, the winding becks, the scars and waterfalls, and prospects from the loftiest fells. When they had trudged with us for many a weary mile, through moss and moor, they would hang the girdle upon the peat-fire, and in a wonderfully short time have those delicious little kettle-cakes, or as they call them, sad-cakes, made of pastry, and thickly dotted with currants, smoking on the tea-table. And when you came in at a late hour, would bring you out those rural dainties, equally delicious, gooseberry tarts, with curds and cream. Long may the simple virtues of the Dales remain, while knowledge in its growth, roots out the more earthly traits of character, and implants a bolder spirit of enterprise, with the present moral integrity of mind.