Then a lawyer's clerk, who had just entered, remarked;—"Why, old boy, you ought to make your will and keep it by ye before sit down to eat beef again." "Why bless 'e so I have.[211] I always keep my will in my pocket, and you shall see am ef you mind to. I made 'n myself—no lawyers for me. Here a es." Saying this he drew from his pocket a sheet of paper, and gave it to the doctor, telling him he might keep it, if he had a mind to see how to make a will. He intended to make another the next Sunday, because he had more things to bequeath now than when he made the testament, of which the following is a faithful copy:— "I'll make my will while I am well. I will bestow my riches. I'll give to Ellek,[5] my eldest son, my best Coat, Jacket, and my Breeches. As for my watch et es in pawn; else Elexander should have that. Neckey shall have the courage Horse, and Jan the little Sprat. Mary shall have the milking Cow, and Lystria shall have the Heifer. Fillis shall have the flock of Sheep, and wat can I do better? Old Polly shall have the Puss[6] of goold, and that will most maintain her. Sally shall have the old brass Pan, the Bucket, and the Strainer. "Signed, sealed, and delivered, in the presence of "Cousin Matthew Hollow, "Uncle Philip Eddy, and "John Quick, the Schoolmaster." [212] The Smugglers of Penrose. Part the First. In winter's tedious nights, sit by the fire With good old folkes; and let them tell thee tales Of woful ages, long ago betid. King Richard II. WHAT remains of the old mansion of Penrose, in Sennen, stands on a low and lonely site at the head of a narrow valley; through which a mill-brook winds, with many abrupt turns, for about three miles, thence to Penberth Cove. So late as forty years ago, it was one of those antique, mysterious looking buildings, which most persons regard with a degree of interest that no modern structure inspires; the upper story only—with its mullioned windows, pointed gables, and massive chimney-stacks—was just seen over the ivey-covered walls of courts and gardens that surrounded it. There was, however, a certain gloomy air about the ruinous walls and neglected gardens embowered in aged trees, which might have conduced to such unaccountable stories of apparitions and other unnatural occurrences, as were said to have taken place there. Some three or four centuries ago, it was the property and residence of an ancient family of the same name; little more is known of these old Penroses than what can be gathered from wild traditions related by the winter's hearth. The following among many others were often recounted by old folks of the West.