players took their place. All were blindfolded with the exception of
one, who was the jingler, and who carried a bell in each hand, which
he was obliged to keep ringing. His object was to elude the pursuit
of his blinded companions, and he won the prize if he was still free
when the play ceased. It was an amusing sight to see the men trying
to catch the active jingler, running into each other's arms, and
catching every one but the right one. When the jingling match was
over, a pig with a short, well-soaped tail was turned out for the
people to run after, and he who could hold it by the tail without
touching any other part obtained it for his pains. There was also a
game called Pigeon-holes, which appears to have been somewhat
similar to our present game of bagatelle.

And so with laughter and with song the feast ended, the evening
shadows fell around, and the happy rustics retired to their humble
thatched-roofed homes. The proceeds of these church-ales were often
considerable. "There were no rates for the poor in my grandfather's
time," says one writer, "the church-ale of Whitsuntide did the
business"; and whether the parishioners had to pay a tax for the
support of the King's army, or to repair the church, or to maintain
some orphan children, it was generally found "that something still
remained to cover the bottom of the purse."

Of the "mysteries," or miracle plays, as they were called, which
were performed in towns on Corpus Christi Day and at other times, I
propose to write in another chapter; and we will now proceed to the
hillsides near our villages on the eve of St. John's Day, when we
should witness the lighting of large bonfires, and some curious
customs connected with that ceremony. Both the old and the young
people used to sally forth from the village to some neighbouring