He takes it out with such long wind, Behold and see what he can do, Here's a health anto my brother John, To this may be added the following. A Health Drinking. There was a man from London came, The great object is to start something which will catch some unguarded reply in lieu of saying "Mum," when the party so unguardedly replying, is fined to drink two glasses. For the beginning of Harvest there is this Harvest Song. Now Lammas comes in, Our harvest begin, We have done our endeavours to get the corn in ; We reap and we mow, And we stoutly blow And cut down the corn That did sweetly grow. The poor old man I shall be happy if this will afford the readers of the Every-Day Book any information concerning the harvest customs of this county. I am, Sir, &c. 6. H. I. A valuable correspondent transmits a particular account of his country custom, which will be read with pleasure. DEVON. To the Editor of the Every-Day Book. Sir,-As the harvest has now become very general, I am reminded of a circumstance, which I think worthy of communicating to you. After the wheat is all cut, on most farms in the north of Devon, the the neck." I believe that this practice is harvest people have a custom of "crying seldom omitted on any large farm in that part of the country. It is done in this way. An old man, or some one else well acquainted with the ceremonies used on the occasion, (when the labourers are reaping the last field of wheat,) goes round to the shocks and sheaves, and picks out a little bundle of all the best ears he can find; this bundle he ties up very neat and trim, and plats and arranges the straws very tastefully. This is called "the neck" of wheat, or wheaten-ears. After the field is cut out, and the pitcher once more circulated, the reapers, binders, and the women, stand round in a circle. The person with "the neck" stands in the centre, grasping it with both his hands. He first stoops and holds it near the ground, Gets up in the morning, and do all he can, and all the men forming the ring, take off Gets up, &c. 1 hope God will reward Such old harvest man. But the man who is lazy And will not come on, Now harvest is over their hats, stooping and holding them with both hands towards the ground. They then all begin at once in a very prolonged and harmonious tone to cry "the neck!" at the same time slowly raising themselves upright, and elevating their arms and hats above their heads; the person with "the neck” also raising it on high. This is done three times. They then change their cry to "wee yen!" 66 way yen!"-which they sound in the same prolonged and slow manner as before, with singular harmony and effect, three times. This last cry is accompanied by the same movements of the body and arms as in crying "the neck." I know nothing of vocal music, but I think I may convey some idea of the sound, by giving And now we will sing an old harvest song. you the following notes in gamut. You are welcome, brave boys; And we'll knock along, yen! Let these notes be played on a flute with perfect crescendos and diminuendoes, and perhaps some notion of this wild sounding cry may be formed. Well, after having thus repeated "the neck" three times, and "wee yen" or way yen" as often, they all burst out into a kind of loud and joyous laugh, flinging up their hats and caps into the air, capering about and perhaps kissing the girls. One of them then gets "the neck," and runs as hard as he can down to the farmhouse, where the dairy-maid, or one of the young female domestics, stands at the door prepared with a pail of water. If he who holds "the neck" can manage to get into the house, in any way unseen, or openly, by any other way than the door at which the girl stands with the pail of water, then he may lawfully kiss her; but, if otherwise, he is regularly soused with the contents of the bucket. On a fine still autumn evening, the "crying of the neck" has a wonderful effect at a distance, far finer than that of the Turkish muezzin, which lord Byron eulogizes so much, and which he says is preferable to all the bells in Christendom. I have once or twice heard upwards of twenty men cry it, and sometimes joined by an equal number of female voices. About three years back, on some high grounds, where our people were harvesting, I heard six or seven "necks" cried in one night, although I know that some of them were four miles off. They are heard through the quiet evening air, at a considerable distance sometimes. But I think that the practice is beginning to decline of late, and many farmers and their men do not care about keeping up this old custom. I shall always patronise it myself, because I take it in the light of a thanksgiving. By the by, I was about to conclude, without endeavouring to explain the meaning of the words, we yen!" I had long taken them for Saxon, as the people of Devon are the true Saxon breed. But I think that I am wrong. I asked an old fellow about it the other day, and he is the only man who ever gave me a satisfactory explanation. He says, that the object of crying "the neck" is to give the surrounding country notice of the end of harvest, and 66 We 66 yen! that they mean by "we yen!" we have ended. It may more probably mean we end," which the uncouth and provincial pronunciation has corrupted into "we yen !" I am, Sir, Your obedient servant, July, 1826. R. A. R. P. S. In the above hastily written account, I should have mentioned that "the neck" is generally hung up in the farmhouse, where it remains sometimes three or four years. I have written " we yen,” because I have always heard it so pronounced; they may articulate it differently in other parts of the country. ESSEX. To the Editor of the Every-Day Book. Sir,-As harvest has began in various counties, I beg leave to give you a description of what is called the "harvest supper," in Essex, at the conclusion of the harvest. After the conclusion of the harvest, a supper is provided, consisting of roast beef and plum-pudding, with plenty of strong ale, with which all the men who have been employed in getting in the corn regale themselves. At the beginning of the supper, the following is sung by the whole of them at the supper. Here's a health to our master, The lord of the feast, And send him increase; That we may reap another year, For she is a good woman, she provides us Here's your mistress's good health, boys, The night is generally spent with great mirth, and the merry-makers seldom disperse till "Bright Phœbus has mounted his chariot of day." I am, &c. AN ESSEX MAN AND SUBSCRIBER. It is the advice of the most popular good cheere in the hall: of the labouring man. Tusser. “Tusser Redivivus" says, "This, the poor labourer thinks, crowns all; good supper must be provided, and every one that did any thing towards the Inning must now have some reward, as ribbons, laces, rows of pins to boys and girls, if never so small, for their encouragement, and, to be sure, plumb-pudding. The men must now have some better than best drink, which, with a little tobacco and their screaming for their largesses, their business will soon be done." Harvest Goose. For all this good feasting, Whereon "Tusser Redivivus" notes, that "the goose is forfeited, if they overthrow during harvest." A MS. note on a copy of Brand's "Antiquities," lent to the editor, cites from Boys's "Sandwich," an item "35 Hen. VIII. Spent when we ete our harvyst goose iijs. vid. and the goose xd." In France under Henry IV. it is cited by Mr. Brand from Seward, that "after the harvest, the peasants fixed upon some regale, (by them called the harvest gosholiday to meet together and have a little ling,) to which they invited not only each other, but even their masters, who pleased them very much when they condescended to partake of it." According to information derived by Mr. Brand, it was formerly the custom farmer to drive furiously home with the at Hitchin, in Hertfordshire, for each last load of his corn, while the people ran after him with bowls full of water in order to throw on it; and this usage was accompanied with great shouting. HARVEST-HOME. Who has not seen the cheerful harvest-home, Which moan the death of Summer. Glowing scene! Unfolds its sunny lustre, and the dew Silvers the out-stretch'd landscape, labour's sons From sweet and soothing rest; for fev'rish dreams They toil in the fierce beams of fervid noon- To the brook Of wintry desolation; and how fair Your blooming daughters greet the op'ning dawn Hail! harvest-home! Where the rich earth presents her golden treasures; It was formerly the custom in the parish of Longforgan, in the county of Perth North Britain, to give what was called a maiden feast. "Upon the finishing of the harvest the last handful of corn reaped in the field was called the maiden. This was generally contrived to fall into the hands of one of the finest girls in the field, and was dressed up with ribands, and brought home in triumph with the music of fiddles or bagpipes. A good dinner was given to the Mrs. Robinson. whole band, and the evening spent in joviality and dancing, while the fortunate lass who took the maiden was the queen of the feast; after which this handful of corn was dressed out generally in the form of a cross, and hung up with the date of the year, in some conspicuous part of the house. This custom is now entirely done away, and in its room each shearer is given sixpence and a loaf of bread. However, some farmers, when all their corns are brought in, give their servants a dinner and a jovial evening, by way of harvesthome." Statistical Account of Scotland. The festival of the in-gathering in Scotland, is poetically described by the elegant author of the "British Georgics." THE KIRN. Harvest Home. The fields are swept, a tranquil silence reigns, Deep is the morning's hush; from grange to grange Sends faintly through the air its deafened sound. Bright now the shortening day, and blythe its close, To grace the feast, which now is smoking ranged On tables of all shape, and size, and height, When ended the repast, and board and bench |