"Ah!" said the master smith. "Well, well! It is years ago now that I first heard it, when the ships came inside our walls with coal and took away stone. We rarely see a ship in our walls now, but when I was a boy my father and I frequently went down to the quay to repair ironwork aboard the old sailing boats. Those old Devon sailors were the fellows for songs. Upon my soul, I believe sailors no longer sing as they once did. I find a great difference between the old-fashioned chanty man and the modern seaman who never sings at his work. The man who sings loudly and clearly is in good health, prompt, and swift to the point, and his heart is as big as parson's barn. The silent sullen fellow may have these qualities--he may have 'em, I say; but then the chap who sings is the happier man." "But there are some miserable fellows who reckon to be very happy," I said. At this Govier gave a shrug of his ox-like shoulders, and waved away all such sorry triflers. "There are such people," said he; "but they are not entertaining. However, you want to get the hang of that song, and though I cannot remember the exact words I have the rhythm of it in my head right enough, and I think it runs like this: "'Come all you young fellows that carry a gun, Beware of late shooting when daylight is done; For 'tis little you reckon what hazards you run, I shot my true love at the setting of the sun. In a shower of rain, as my darling did hie All under the bushes to keep herself dry, With her head in her apron, I thought her a swan, And I shot my true love at the setting of the sun. In the night the fair maid as a white swan appears: She says, O my true love, quick, dry up your tears, I freely forgive you, I have Paradise won; I was shot by my true love at the setting of the sun.' "You should have heard that song as I heard it on board an old-time schooner, when the ship's company all banged and roared heartily, and shouted in enormous voices. When they came to 'I was shot by my true love' the company would all join together in a great moan, and wag their heads in a most melancholy way. But there are no songs like that now. All this complicated machinery in ships has darkened men's minds and shut out the old songs." A good many very interesting places may be cleared up by just trespassing a few miles into Devon when we leave Lyme Regis, and taking the main road to Axminster, a parish and market town on the River Axe. St Mary's Church is of ancient origin, and contains some objects of antiquarian interest. The other churches are modern. South of the town are the ruins of Newenham Abbey; its history is interesting. Seven miles north, Ford Abbey affords another attraction. Membury Castle (one mile south) and Weycroft are ancient Roman or British fortifications. It is believed that the battle of Brunanburgh, A.D. 937, was fought near here.