"And the Protestant cause!" shouted Taverner. "Ay, ay, which His Majesty swore to maintain," said the miners. "Bar politics!" cried Mr. Gibbs, "or, curse it, I'll throw the punch out of the door. I will, I swear I will. Taverner, give us something cheerful--something with no politics in it to set us all by the ears." "Shall I give you something suitable to the evening, Mr. Gibbs?" "Certainly--tune up. I wish I had my viol with me to give a few chords; but I set out to look for my niece who had strayed, and I forgot to take my viol with me." The grey-haired ballad-singer stood up, cleared his throat, and with the utmost gravity sang, throwing marvellous twirls and accidentals into the tune, the following song: My Lady hath a sable coach And horses, two and four, My Lady hath a gaunt bloodhound That runneth on before. My Lady's coach has nodding plumes, The coachman has no head. My Lady's face is ashen white, As one that long is dead. "Now, pray step in," my Lady saith, "Now, pray step in and ride!" "I thank thee, I had rather walk, Than gather to thy side." The wheels go round without a sound Of tramp or turn of wheels, As a cloud at night, in the pale moonlight, Onward the carriage steals. "Now, pray step in," my Lady saith, "Now, prithee, come to me." She takes the baby from the crib, She sets it on her knee. The wheels go round, etc. "Now, pray step in," my Lady saith, "Now, pray step in, and ride," Then deadly pale, in wedding veil, She takes to her the bride. The wheels go round, etc. "Now, pray step in," my Lady saith, "There's room I wot for you." She waved her hand, the coach did stand, The Squire within she drew. The wheels go round, etc. "Now, pray step in," my Lady saith, "Why shouldst thou trudge afoot?" She took the gaffer in by her, His crutches in the boot. The wheels go round, etc. I'd rather walk a hundred miles, And run by night and day, Than have that carriage halt for me, And hear my Lady say: "Now, pray step in, and make no din, I prithee come and ride. There's room, I trow, by me for you, And all the world beside."[3] FOOTNOTES: [1] Such a granite-oven was discovered in the author's own house in an old and long-abandoned chimney-back, in 1866. It was impossible to preserve it. [2] Two such stone frying-pans are to be seen in the Museum at Launceston. The one was given by a gentleman from his kitchen, where it had been long in use, the other was found among the ruins of Trecarrel--probably coeval with the buildings, the middle of the sixteenth century.