Past Washford—_i.e._ “Watchet-ford”—railway station, and down a leafy lane to the right hand, we come in a mile to the village of Old Cleeve; its pleasant rustic, vine-grown cottages commanding views of the beautiful bay between Blue Anchor and the bold promontory of North Hill, Minehead, from their bedroom windows in the heavily thatched roofs. There is not much of Old Cleeve, but what there is, bears the impress of simplicity and innocence, not at all in unison with the scandalous rhyme: There was a young fellow of Cleeve Who said, “It is pleasant to thieve!” So he spent all his time In commission of crime— Now he’s out on a Ticket-of-Leave. The church of Old Cleeve is of the usual fine Perpendicular character to which we grow accustomed in these parts; with the curious individual feature of a floor gradually, but most distinctly, ascending from the west end of the nave to the chancel. Here is an alms-box, dated 1634, and inscribed “Tob. 4. Pro. 19. Remember ye poore. Bee mercifvll after thy power. He that hath pitie vpon ye poore lendeth vnto the Lord.” In a recess contrived in the wall of the nave and surmounted by a boldly moulded ogee arch, finished off with a finial in the shape of a human face wearing a somewhat satanic expression of countenance, is a recumbent effigy of a civilian of the fifteenth century. This, although blunted and damaged by time and ill-usage, was evidently a fine work in the days of its prime. The effigy has not been identified, and whether it be that of a merchant-prince, or some great local landowner, cannot be said; but the original was, at all events, if we may judge from the care evidently taken by the sculptor with the effigy, a person of importance. A peculiarly charming and dainty—almost a feminine—effect is given by the decorated fillet that encircles the long hair, and by the girdle around the waist; but what will most keenly arouse the interest and the speculation of those who examine the figure is the very striking little sculptured group, of a cat with one paw resting on a mouse, on which the feet of the effigy rest. Although the head of the cat is somewhat worn down, the group is still tolerably perfect, and the cat is seen to be looking up at the figure, as though seeking her master’s approval. The question visitors will naturally ask, “Has this representation of sculptured cat and mouse any particular meaning here?” at once arises; but no facts, or legends even, are available. It is curious to note, however, that Sir Richard Whittington—the famous “Dick Whittington,” the hero of the “Dick Whittington and his Cat” story—was contemporary, or very nearly contemporary, with the unknown man represented here. It is not suggested that the fact is more than a coincidence: but it is a curious one. [Illustration: MYSTERIOUS EFFIGY AT OLD CLEEVE.]