Built on dirty low land.
Where you'll find, if you go,
The wine's but so so;
The blades of the hay
Are like swords one may say,
The beds are like stones,
And break a man's bones;
The men rough and sturdy,
Compliments will afford me
But bid you good b'w'y,
When both hungry and dry."

W.H.

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THE HOBBY HORSE.

Bromley Pagets was remarkable for a very singular sport on New Year's Day
and Twelfth Day, called the Hobby Horse Dance: a person rode upon the
image of a horse, with a bow and arrow in his hands, with which he made a
snapping noise, keeping time with the music, whilst six others danced the
hay and other country dances, with as many rein-deer's heads on their
shoulders. To this hobby-horse belonged a pot, which the Reeves of the
town kept and filled with cakes and ale, towards which the spectators
contributed a penny, and with the remainder maintained their poor and
repaired the church.--W.H.

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