She, rising, seems to take the cup,
But other rivers drink all up.
The sun, and who dare him disgrace
With drink, that keeps his steady pace,
Baits at the sea, and keeps good hours.
The moon and stars, and mighty powers,
Drink not, but spill that on the floor
The sun drew up the day before,
And charitable dews bestow
On herbs that die for thirst below.
Then drink no more, then let that die
That would the drunkard kill, for why
Shall all things live by rule but I,
Thou man of morals, tell me why?"

On the title-page, in the same hand-writing as the "Answer," is the name of
the Rev. Archibald Foyer, with the date 1700.

Y.

* * * * *

FOLK LORE OF LANCASHIRE. NO. 1.

Lancashire, like all other counties, has its own peculiar superstitions,
manners, and customs, which find no parallels in those of other localities.
It has also, no doubt, many local observances, current opinions, old
proverbs, and vulgar ditties, which are held and known in common with the
inhabitants of a greater extent of county, and differ merely in minor
particulars;--the necessary result of imperfect oral transmission. In