used to gie some o’ the money as he took to the poor, if he knowed they was in want.” _Squire._ “Thank’ee, Thomas. What a pity he didn’t go soldiering; he might have made a fine fellow then!” _Thos._ “Well, Sir, so t’wur, I thinks. Our fam’ly be given to that sort o’ thing. I wur a good hand at elbow and collar wrastling myself, afore I got married; but then I gied up all that, and ha’ stuck to work ever sence.” _Squire._ “Well, Thomas, you’ve given me the story I wanted to hear, so it’s fair I should give you a Sunday dinner.” _Thos._ “Lord love ’ee, Sir, I never meant nothin’ o’ that sort; our fam’ly”-- We were half-way across the field, when I looked round, and saw old Thomas still looking after us and holding the Squire’s silver in his hand, evidently not comfortable in his mind at having failed in telling us all he had to say about _his fam’ly_, of which he seemed as proud as any duke can be of his, and I dare say has more reason for his pride than many of them. At last, however, as we got over the stile, he pocketed the affront and went on with his work. I could find out nothing whatever about the next Scouring; but I was lucky enough to get the printed hand-bill which was published before the one in 1776, which I made out to be the next but one after that at which Tim Gibbons played. When I showed this old hand-bill to the Parson he was very much tickled. He took up the one which the Committee put out this last time, and looked at them together for a minute, and then tossed them across to me. “What a queer contrast,” said he, “between those two bills.” “How do you mean, Sir?” said I; “why the games seem to be nearly the same.” “So they are,” said he; “but look at the prizes. Our great grandfathers, you’ll see, gave no money prizes; we scarcely any others. The gold-laced hat and buckskin breeches have gone, and current coin of the realm reigns supreme. Then look at the happy-go-lucky way in which the old bill is put out. No date given, no name signed! who was responsible for the breeches, or the shoe-buckles? And then, what grammar! The modern bill, you see, is in the shape of resolutions, passed at a meeting, the chairman’s name being appended as security for the prizes.” “That seems much better and more business-like,” said I. “Then you see the horserace for a silver cup has disappeared,” he went on. “Epsom and Ascot have swallowed up the little country races, just as big manufacturers swallow up little ones, and big shops whole streets of little shops, and nothing but monsters flourish in this age of unlimited competition and general enlightenment. Not that I regret the small country town-races, though.” “And I see, Sir, that ‘smocks to be run for by ladies,’ is left out in the modern bill.” “A move in the right direction there, at any rate,” said he; “the bills ought to be published side by side.” So I took his advice, and here they are:-- “WHITE HORSE HILL, BERKS, 1776.[27]