After this there was no Scouring till 1838, when, on the 19th and 20th of September, the old custom was revived, under the patronage of Lord Craven. The _Reading Mercury_ congratulates its readers on the fact, and adds that no more auspicious year could have been chosen for the revival, “than that in which our youthful and beloved Queen first wore the British crown, and in which an heir was born to the ancient and noble house of Craven, whom God preserve.” I asked the Parson if he knew why it was that such a long time had been let to pass between the 1825 Scouring and the next one. “You see it was a transition time,” said he; “old things were passing away. What with Catholic Emancipation, and Reform, and the new Poor Law, even the quiet folk in the Vale had no time or heart to think about pastimes; and machine-breaking and rick-burning took the place of wrestling and backsword play.” “But then, Sir,” said I, “this last fourteen years we haven’t had any Reform Bill (worse luck) and yet there was no Scouring between 1843 and 1857.” “Why can’t you be satisfied with my reason?” said he; “now you must find one out for yourself.” The last Scouring, in September, 1843, Joe had been at himself, and told me a long story about, which I should be very glad to repeat, only I think it would rather interfere with my own story of what I saw myself. The Berkshire and Wiltshire men, under Joe Giles of Shrivenham, got the better of the Somersetshire men, led by Simon Stone, at backsword play; and there were two men who came down from London, who won the wrestling prize away from the countrymen. “What I remember best, however,” said Joe, “was all the to-do to get the elephant’s caravan up the hill, for Wombwell’s menagerie came down on purpose for the Scouring. I should think they put-to a matter of four-and-twenty horses, and then stuck fast four or five times. I was a little chap then but I sat and laughed at ’em a good one; and I don’t know that I’ve seen so foolish a job since.” “I don’t see why, Joe,” said I. “You don’t?” said he, “well, that’s good, too. Why didn’t they turn the elephant out and make him pull his own caravan up? He would have been glad to do it, poor old chap, to get a breath of fresh air, and a look across the vale.” * * * * * But now that I have finished all that I have to tell about the old Scourings, (at least all that I expect any body will read,) I must go back again to the kitchen on the night of the 16th of September, 1857. Joe, who, as I said, was half asleep while I was reading, soon waked up afterwards, though it was past eleven o’clock, and began to settle how we were to go up the hill the next morning.