between the townsmen and gownsmen (or college students) on this
night, who, on any other night in the year, never thought of
fighting. Happily in recent years these fights have ceased, but even
now the gownsmen are "gated" on the night of the Fifth of November,
_i.e._ are confined to their colleges, lest there should be a
renewal of these encounters. So severe were the battles in ancient
times, that the tower of Carfax Church was lowered because the
townsfolk used to ascend thither and shoot their arrows at the
undergraduates; and the butchers were obliged to ply their trade
beyond the city walls, because they had used their knives and
cleavers in their annual fight.

At Martinmas, or the Feast of St. Martin, it was the custom to lay
in a stock of winter provisions, and many cows, oxen, and swine were
killed at this time, their flesh being salted and hung up for the
winter, when fresh provisions were seldom to be had.

And now the long evenings have set in, and our ancestors in hall or
cottage assemble round the blazing hearth, and listen to the
minstrel's lays, and recite their oft-told tales of adventure and
romance. Sometimes they indulge in asking each other riddles, and
there exists at the present time an old collection of these early
efforts of wit and humour which are not of a very high order. The
book is called _Demands Joyous,_ and was printed in A.D. 1511. I may
extract the following riddles:--"What is it that never was and never
will be? Answer: A mouse's nest in a cat's ear. Why does a cow lie
down? Because it cannot sit. How many straws go to a goose's nest?
Not one, for straws, not having feet, cannot go anywhere."

With such feeble efforts of wit did the country folk try to beguile