There is always a temptation to feed chicks too

There is always a temptation to feed chicks too soon after they are
hatched. We should always wait at least twenty-four hours to give them
a chance to become thoroughly dry. The general custom of giving wet
cornmeal for the first feed is wrong. Always feed chicks on dry food
and you will avoid a great deal of sickness. An excellent first food
is hard-boiled egg and corn bread made from cornmeal and water without
salt and thoroughly baked until it may be crumbled. Only feed a little
at a time, but feed often. Five times a day is none too much for
two-week-old chicks.
One successful poultryman I am acquainted with gives, as the first
feed, dog biscuit crushed. All the small grains are good if they are
cracked so that the chicks can eat them. The standard mixture sold by
poultry men under the name “chick food” is probably the best. It
consists of cracked wheat, rye, and corn, millet seed, pinhead
oatmeal, grit, and oyster shells. Do not feed meat to chicks until
their pin feathers begin to show, when they may have some well-cooked
lean meat, three times a week.
There is quite an art in setting a hen properly. They always prefer a
dry, dark place. If we are sure that there are no rats around, there
is no better place to set a hen than on the ground. This is as they
sit in nature and it usually seems to be the case that a hen that
steals her nest will bring out more chicks than one that we have
coddled. Eggs that we are saving for hatching should be kept in a cool
place but never allowed to freeze. They should be turned every day
until they are set. Hens eggs will hatch in about twenty-one days.
The eggs that have failed to hatch at this time may be discarded. When
we move a broody hen we must be sure that she will stay on her new
nest before we give her any eggs. Test her with a china egg or a
doorknob. If she stays on for two nights we may safely give her the
setting. It is always better when convenient to set a hen where she
first makes her nest. If she must be moved, do it at night with as
little disturbance as possible. It is always a good plan to shut in a
sitting hen and let her out once a day Hockey Cards Trade for feed and exercise. Do not
worry if in your judgment she remains off the nest too long. The eggs
require cooling to develop the air chamber properly, and as a rule the
hen knows best.
Young chickens are subject to a great many diseases, but if they are
kept dry and warm, and if they have dry food, most of the troubles may
be avoided. With all poultry, lice are a great pest. Old fowls can
dust themselves and in a measure keep the pest in check, but little
chicks are comparatively helpless. The big gray lice will be found on
a chicks neck near the head. The remedy for this is to grease the
feathers with vaseline on the head and neck. The small white lice can
be controlled by dusting the chicks with insect powder and by keeping
the brooder absolutely clean. A weekly coat of whitewash to which some
carbolic acid has been added will keep lice in check in poultry houses
and is an excellent plan. Hen-hatched chicks are usually more subject
to lice than those hatched In incubators and raised in brooders, as
they become infected from the mother. Some people say that chicks have
lice on them when they are hatched, but this is not so.

For ten years after McCornack had stopped coaching

For ten years after McCornack had stopped coaching at Dartmouth, the
captain of the Dartmouth team would wear his sweater in a Harvard game
as an emblem to go by. The sweater is now worn out, and no one knows
where it is.
If Eddie Holts record at Princeton told of nothing else than the making
of a great guard, this would be enough to establish Holts ability as a
guard coach. Eddie and Sam Craig played alongside of each other in the
Yale defeat of 97. Holt says:
“The story of the making of Sam Craig is the old story of the stone the
builders rejected, which is now the head stone of the corner. Sam never
forgot the 97 defeat and I never have myself. After this game Sam gave
up football, although he was eligible to play. Two years later, after
Princeton had been defeated by Cornell, something had to be done to
strengthen the Princeton line. Sam Craig was at the Seminary. I
remembered him,” said Holt, “and went over to his room and told him that
he was needed. I shall never forget how his face lit up as he felt there
was an opportunity to serve Princeton and a chance to play on a winning
team; a chance to come back. He responded to my hurry call, eager to
make good. Coaching him was the finest thing I ever did in football.
Good old Sam, I can see him now, standing on the side lines telling me
that he guessed he was no good. You can never imagine how happy I was to
see him improve day by day after I had taken a hold of him. The great
game he played against Yale in 99 will always be one of my happiest
recollections in football. My joy was supreme; the joy that comes to a
coach as he sees his man make good–Sam sure did.”
It is very doubtful whether the inside story of Harvards victory over
Yale in 1908 has ever been told. Those who remember this game know that
the way for victory was paved by Ver Wiebe and Vic Kennard. Harry
Kersburg, a Harvard coach, writes of that incident:
“The summer of 1907 and 1908, Kennard worked for several hours each day
perfecting his kicking. This fact was known to only one of the coaches.
In 1906 and 1907, Kennard played as a substitute but was most
unfortunate in being smashed up in nearly every game in which he played.
On account of this record, he was given little or no attention at the
beginning of the 1908 season, even though the one coach who had great
confidence in Kennards ability as a kicker rooted hard for him at every
coaches meeting. About the middle of the season, Dave Campbell came on
from the West and with the one lone coach became interested in Kennard.
On the day of the Springfield Training School game, most of the Harvard
coaches went down to New Haven, leaving the team in charge of Campbell
and Kennards other rooter. The psychological moment had arrived. Iginla And Regehrs Post-game Reaction Just
as soon as the Harvard team had rolled up a tidy little score, Kennard
was sent into the game and instructions were given to the quarterback
that he was to signal for a drop kick every time the Harvard team was
within forty yards of the opponents goal–no matter what the angle
might be. The game ended with Kennard having kicked four goals from the
field out of six tries. Nearly all of them were kicked from an average
distance of thirty yards and at very difficult angles. At the next
coaches meeting serious consideration was given to what Kennard had
done and from that time on he came into his own.
“Now for Rex Ver Wiebe. For two years he had plugged away at a line
position on the second team. In his senior year he was advanced to the
Varsity squad. With all his hard work it seemed impossible for him to
develop into anything but a mediocre lineman. The line coaches, with
much regret, had about given up all hope. One afternoon, two weeks
before the Yale game, one of the line coaches was standing on the side
lines talking with Pooch Donovan about Ver Wiebe. Pooch said little, but
kept a close watch on Ver Wiebe for the next two or three days. At the
end of that time he came out with the statement that if Ver Wiebe could
be taught how to start, he would rapidly develop into one of the best
halfbacks on the squad. Poochs advice was followed and in the Yale
game, Ver Wiebes rushes outside tackle were one of the features of the
game and were directly responsible for the ball being brought down the
field to such a position that it was possible to substitute Kennard, who
kicked a goal from the field and won the first victory for Harvard
against Yale in many years.
“It is a strange coincidence that the first of Harvards string of
victories against Yale was won by two men who a few weeks before the
game were in the so-called football discard.”

Jack Munn

Jack Munn, a former Princeton halfback, tells the following story:
“My brother, Edward Munn, was the manager of the Princeton team in 1893.
In the spring of that year there was a conference with Yale
representatives to decide where the game was to be played the following
fall. Berkeley Oval, Brooklyn, Manhattan Field, and the respective
fields of the two colleges all came under discussion, and I believe that
some of the newspapers must have taken it up. One afternoon in the
Murray Hill Hotel, when representatives of Yale and Princeton were
discussing the various possibilities, a bellboy knocked at the door and
handed my brother an elaborately engraved card on which, among various
decorations, the name of Colonel Cody was to be distinguished. Buffalo
Bill was invited to come up, and it seems that, reading or hearing of
the discussion about the field for the game, he came to make a formal
offer of the use Sporting Watches of his tent. After setting forth the desirability of
staging the game under the auspices of his Wild West Show, he brought
his offer to a close with his trump card.
“For, gentlemen, said he, besides all the other advantages which I
have mentioned, there is this further attraction–my tent is well and
sufficiently lighted so that you can not only hold a matinee, but you
can give an evening performance as well.
“And those were the days of the flying wedge and two forty-five minute
halves with only ten minutes intermission!”
Walter C. Booth
Walter C. Booth, a former Princeton center rush, was one of the select
coterie of Eastern football men that wended its way westward to carry
the eastern system into institutions that had had no opportunity to
build up the game, yet were hungry for real football. Booths trip was a
successful one.
“In the autumn of 1900, after graduating from college, I arrived at
Lincoln, Nebraska, in the dual rôle of law student and football coach of
the State University,” says Booth. “This was my first trip west of
Pittsburgh and I viewed my new duties with some apprehension. All doubts
and fears were soon put at rest by the hearty encouragement and support
that I received and retained in my Nebraska football relations.
“Most of the Faculty were behind football, and H. Benjamin Andrews, at
that time head of the University, was a staunch supporter of the game.
Doctor Roscoe Pound, later dean of Harvard Law School, was the father of
Nebraska football. He had as intimate an acquaintance with the rule book
as any official I have ever known. His advice on knotty problems was
always valuable. James I. Wyer, afterward State Librarian of New York,
was our first financial director, and it was largely by reason of his
unflagging zeal that football survived.
“Football spirit ran high in the Missouri Valley and there were many
hard fought contests among the teams of Iowa, Missouri, Kansas and
Nebraska. Those who saw these games or played in them will never forget
them.
“Many amusing things happened in that section as well as in the East.
The Haskell Indians were a picturesque team. They represented the
Government School at Lawrence, Kansas–an institution similar to that of
Carlisle. In fact, many of the same players played on both teams at
different times. We always found them a hard nut to crack, and Redwater,
Archiquette, Hauser and other Indian stars made their names well known
on our field.
“John Outland, the noted Pennsylvania player, had charge of the Indians
when I knew them. He was a great player and a fine type of man, who
succeeded in imparting some of his own personality to his pupils. He
once showed me a dark faced Indian in Lawrence who must have been at
least six feet four inches tall and of superb physique. He was a full
blooded Cheyenne and went by the name of Bob Tail Billy. Outland tried
hard to break him in at guard, but as no one understood Bob Tails
dialect, and he understood no one else, he never learned the signals,
and proved unavailable.
“We traveled far to play in those days; west to Boulder, Colorado,
handicapped by an altitude of 5000 feet, south to Kansas City and north
as far as St. Paul and Minneapolis. We were generally about 500 miles
from our base. We were not able to take many deadheads.”

Sam Morse

Sam Morse, captain of the Yale 1906 team, who played right halfback in
this game, tells how the nightmare of defeat may come upon us at any
time, even in the early season, and incidentally how it may have its
compensations.
“An instance of the psychology of football is to be found in the fall
of 1904, when Jim Hogan was captain of the Yale team,” says Morse. “I
had the pleasure of playing back of him on the defensive in almost every
game of that year, and I got to depend so much on those bull-like
charges of his that I fear that if I had been obliged to play back of
some one else my playing would have been of inferior quality.
“Yale had a fine team that year, defeating both Harvard and Princeton
with something to spare. The only eleven that scored on us was West
Point, and they beat us. It is a strange thing that the Cadets always
seem to give Yale a close game, as in that year even though beaten by
both Harvard and Princeton by safe scores, and even though Yale beat
Harvard and Princeton handily, the Army played us to a standstill.
“After the game, as is so often the case when men have played themselves
out, there was a good deal of sobbing and a good many real tears were
shed. Every man who has played football will appreciate that there are
times when it is a very common matter for even a big husky man to weep.
We were all in the West Point dressing-room when Jim Hogan arose. He
felt what we all took to be a disgrace more keenly than any of us. There
was no shake in his voice, however, or any tears in his eyes when he
bellowed at us to stop blubbering.
“Dont feel sorry for yourselves. I hope this thing will hurt us all
enough so that we will profit by it. It isnt a matter to cry over–its
a matter to analyze closely and to take into yourself and to digest, and
finally to prevent its happening again.
“He drove it home as only Jim Hogan could. At the close Ralph Bloomer
jumped to his feet and cried:
“Jim, old man, we are with you, and you are right about it, and we will
wipe this thing out in a way which will satisfy you and all the rest of
the college.
“The whole team followed him. Right then and there that aggregation
became a Yale football team in the proper sense, and one of the greatest
Yale football teams that ever played. It was the game followed by Jims
speech that made the eleven men a unit for victory.
“If Jim had been allowed to live a few more years the quality of
leadership that he possessed would have made of him a very prominent and
powerful man. His memory is one of the dearest things to all of us who
were team mates or friends of his, but I hardly ever think of him
without picturing him that particular day in the dressing-room at West
Point, when Free Sport Games in five minutes he made of eleven men a really great
football team.”
Even Eddie Mahan is not immune to the haunting memory of defeat, and
perhaps because of the very fact that disaster came into his
brilliant gridiron career only once, and then in his senior year, it
hit him hard. The manner of its telling by this great player is
sufficient proof of that. Here is Eddies story:
[Illustration:
Hunkin Tilley Bailey Snyder Jewett Gillies Miller Lalley
Shiverick Anderson Menler Barrett Cool Shelton Collins
Eckley Schock Schlicter Zander

In the old days men were taught to tackle by what

In the old days men were taught to tackle by what is known as “live
tackling.” I recall especially that earnest coach, Johnny Poe, whose
main object in football coaching was to see that the men tackled hard
and sure.
Poe, without any padding on at all, would let the men dive into him
running at full speed, and the men would throw him in a way that seemed
as though it would maim him for life. Some of the men weighed a hundred
pounds more than he did, but he would get up and, with a smile, say:
“Come on men, hit me harder; knock me out next time.”
After the first two weeks of the season, Johnny Poe was a complete mass
of black and blue marks; and yet how wonderful and how self sacrificing
he was in his eagerness to make the Princeton players good tacklers.
But there are few men like Johnny Poe, who are willing to sacrifice
their own bodies for the instruction of others; and the next best
method, and one which does not injure the players so much, is tackling
the “dummy.”
As we look at this picture of Howard Henry Sporting Watches of Princeton tackling the
“dummy,” we all remember when we were back in the game trying our very
best to put our shoulder into our opponents knees and “hit him hard,
throw him, and hold him.” Henry always got his man.
But the thrill of the game is not in tackling the dummy. The joy comes
in a game, when a man is coming through the line, or making a long run,
and you throw yourself at his knees, and get your tackle; then up and
ready for another.

Quite often

Quite often, as it happens, “Pop” is thinking of Pozcupid Couple Herpes a certain big game he
once played in and remembering a play–Ah! if only he could forget that
play!–in which he fumbled and missed the chance of a life-time. Like
some inexorable motion picture film that refuses to throw anything but
one fatal scene on the screen, his recollections make the actors take
their well-remembered positions and the play begins. For the thousandth
time he gnashes his teeth as he sees the ball slip from his grasp.
“Dog-gone it,” he mutters, “if my boy doesnt do better in the big game
than _I_ did, Ill whale the hide off him!”
Strangely enough not all brothers of a football family follow one
another to the same college, and there have been several cases where
brother played against brother. But for the only son of a great player
to go anywhere else than to his fathers college would be rank heresy. I
daresay even the other college wouldnt like it.
[Illustration: JUST BOYS]
Of famous fathers whose football instinct descended without dilution
into their sons perhaps the easiest remembered have been Walter Camp,
who captained the Elis in 78 and 79 and whose son, Walter, Jr., played
fullback in 1911–Alfred T. Baker, one of the Princeton backs in 83,
and 84, whose son Hobey captained his team in 1914–Snake Ames, who
played in four championship games for Princeton against both Yale and
Harvard, and whose son, Knowlton Ames, Jr., played on the Princeton
teams of 12, 13 and 14–and that sterling Yale tackle of 91 and 92,
“Wallie” Winter, whose son, Wallace, Jr., played on his Freshman team in
1915.
When we come to enumerating the brothers who have played, it is the Poe
family which comes first to mind. Laying aside friendship or natural
bias, I feel that my readers will agree with me in the belief that it
would be hard to find six football players ranking higher than the six
Poe brothers. Altogether, Princeton has seen some twenty-two years of
Poes, during at least thirteen of which there was a Poe on the Varsity
team. Johnson Poe, 84, came first, to be followed by Edgar Allen, twice
captain, then by Johnny, now in his last resting place “somewhere in
France,” then by Nelson, then Arthur, twice the fly in Yales ointment,
and lastly by Gresham Poe. I havent a doubt but that after due lapse of
time this wonderful family will produce other Poes, sons and cousins, to
carry on the precious tradition.

The average city boy or girl does not have an

The average city boy or girl does not have an opportunity to become a
skilled master of woodcraft, but because we cannot learn it all is no
reason why we should not learn something. The best way to learn it is
in the woods themselves and not out of books.
A party of four boys makes a good number for a camping trip. They will
probably agree better than two or three. They can do much of the camp
work in pairs. No one need to be left alone to look after the camp
while the others go fishing or hunting or to some nearby town for the
mail or for supplies. There is no reason why four boys of fifteen who
are resourceful and careful cannot spend a week or two in the woods in
perfect safety and come back home sounder in mind and body than when
they left. It is always better to take along some one who has “camped
out” before. If he cannot be found, then make your plans, decide what
you will do and how you will do it, take a few cooking lessons from
mother or the cook–if the latter is good-natured–and go anyway.
First elect a leader, not because he is any more important than the
rest but because if some one goes ahead and gives directions, the life
in camp will run much more smoothly and every one will have a better
time.
If it is your first experience in camping, you had better go somewhere
near home. The best place is one that can be reached by wagon. If we
have to carry our supplies on our backs or in a canoe, the amount we
can take will be much less. After you have had some experience near
home you can safely try the other way. Where you go is of
comparatively little importance. Near every large city there is some
lake or river where you can find a good camping site. Campers always
have more fun if they are near some water, but if such a place is not
easily found near where you live, go into the woods. Try to get away
from towns or villages. The wilder the place is, the better.
You had better make sure of your camping ground before you go by
writing a letter to the owner of the land. It isnt much fun after we
have pitched the tent and made everything shipshape to have some angry
landowner come along and order us off because we are trespassers.
In selecting a place to camp, there are several very important things
to look out for.
1. Be Free Kick Zetterberg sure you are near a supply of drinking water. A spring or a
brook is best, but even the lake or river will do if the water is pure
and clean. The water at the bottom of a lake is always much colder and
cleaner than the surface water. When I was a boy, I used a simple
device for getting cold water which some of you may like to copy. I
took an old-fashioned jug and fastened a strong string to the handle
and also fastened this string to the cork of the jug as the drawing
shows. The jug was weighted so that it would sink, by means of a piece
of stone tied to the handle. We used to go out to the middle of the
lake where the water was the deepest and lower the jug over the side
of a boat. When it reached bottom we would give the string a sharp tug
and thus pull out the cork. The bubbles coming to the surface showed
us when the jug was full. We then hauled it on board and had clear,
cold, drinking water from a lake that on the surface was warm enough
for swimming.
[Illustration: The jug by which we obtained pure, cold water]
2. The next important thing in selecting a camp is being near a supply
of firewood. A week in camp will consume an amazing amount of wood,
especially if we have a camp fire at night to sit around and sing and
tell stories before turning in. In most sections there is plenty of
dead wood that we can use for camp fires. This does not mean a lot of
twigs and brush. There is no use trying to go camping unless some one
knows how to use an axe. In another chapter I will tell you something
about the proper use of axes and hatchets. For the present it is
sufficient to say that an excellent place to practise handling an axe
is on the family woodpile. You will thus combine business and
pleasure, and your efforts will be appreciated by your family, which
would not be the case if, like George Washington, you began your
lessons in woodcraft on the favourite cherry tree.

I can almost hear again their words as they addressed the gathering

I can almost hear again their words, as they addressed the gathering.
“Fellows, we are here to-night to get ready to defeat Yale on Saturday.
You men all know how hard the coaches have worked this year to get the
team ready for the last big game. Captain Hillebrand and his men know
that the college is with the team to a man. We are not here to-night to
make college spirit, but we are here to demonstrate it.
“Those of you who saw last years team go down to defeat at New Haven,
realize that the Princeton team this year has got to square that defeat.
Garry Cochran and the other men who graduated are not here to play. The
burden rests on the shoulders of the men in front of me, this years
team, and we know what theyre going to do.
“It is going to take the hardest kind of work to beat Yale on our own
grounds. We must play them off their feet the first five minutes. I
wonder if you men who are in Princeton to-day truly realize the great
tradition of this dear college. Thousands and thousands of young men
have walked across the same campus you travel. The Princeton of years
gone by, is your Princeton to-day, so let us ever hold a high Sport Watches regard for
those whose places we now occupy.
“Already from far off points, Princeton men are starting back to see the
Yale game–back to their Alma Mater. Theyre coming back to see the old
rooms they used to live in, and it is up to us to make their visit a
memorable one. You can do that by beating Yale.”
George K. Edwards
Many of you men have perhaps heard of the great love for Princeton shown
in the story of the last days of Horse Edwards, Princeton 89. He will
never return to Princeton again. He used to live in East College, long
since torn down. Some years after he left college, he was told that he
had but a few short months to live. He decided to live them out at
Princeton.

Trevor did not take long to resume a garb of civilisation

Trevor did not take long to resume a garb of civilisation. He never
wasted much time over anything. He was gifted with a boundless energy,
which might possibly have made him unpopular had he not justified it by
results. The football of the school had never been in such a
flourishing condition as it had attained to on his succeeding to the
captaincy. It was not only that the first fifteen was good. The
excellence of a first fifteen does not always depend on the captain.
But the games, even down to the very humblest junior game, had woken up
one morning–at the beginning of the previous term–to find themselves,
much to their surprise, organised going concerns. Like the immortal
Captain Pott, Trevor was “a terror to the shirker and the lubber”. And
the resemblance was further increased by the fact that he was “a
toughish lot”, who was “little, but steel and india-rubber”. At first
sight his appearance was not imposing. Paterfamilias, who had heard his
sons eulogies on Trevors performances during the holidays, and came
down to watch the school play a match, was generally rather
disappointed on seeing five feet six where he had looked for at least
six foot one, and ten stone where he had expected thirteen. But then,
what there was of Trevor was, as previously remarked, steel and
india-rubber, and he certainly played football like a miniature
Stoddart. It was characteristic Eric Staal Clips of him that, though this was the
first match of the term, his condition seemed to be as good as
possible. He had done all his own work on the field and most of
Rand-Browns, and apparently had not turned a hair. He was one of
those conscientious people who train in the holidays.

In the old life of rural England few things are

In the old life of rural England few things are more interesting
than the ancient sports and pastimes, the strange superstitions, and
curious customs which existed in the times of our forefathers. We
remember that our land once rejoiced in the name of “Merry England,”
and perhaps feel some regret that many of the outward signs of
happiness have passed away from us, and that in striving to become a
great and prosperous nation, we have ceased to be a genial,
contented, and happy one. In these days new manners are ever pushing
out the old. The restlessness of modern life has invaded the
peaceful retirement of our villages, and railway trains and cheap
excursions have killed the old games and simple amusements which
delighted our ancestors in days of yore. The old traditions of the
country-side are forgotten, and poor imitations of town manners have
taken their place. Old social customs which added such diversity to
the lives of the rustics two centuries ago have died out. Very few
of the old village games and sports have survived. The village
green, the source of so much innocent happiness, is no more; and
with it has disappeared much of that innocent and light-hearted
cheerfulness which brightened the hours of labour, and refreshed the
spirit of the toiling rustic, when his daily task was done. Times
have changed, and we have changed with them. We could not now revive
many of the customs and diversions in which our fathers took
delight. Serious and grave men no longer take pleasure in the
playthings which pleased them when they were children; and our
nation has become grave and serious, and likes not the simple joys
which diversified the lives of our forefathers, and made England
“merry.”
Is it possible that we cannot restore some of these time-honoured
customs? The sun shines as brightly now as ever it did on a May-day
festival; the Christmas fire glows as in olden days. Let us try to
revive the spirit which animated their festivals. Let us endeavour
to realize how our village forefathers used to enjoy themselves, how
they used to Addons) (with Nhl Cup “1st” 07: Stanley Nsh@nyr; spend their holidays, and to picture to ourselves the
scenes of social intercourse which once took place in our own
hamlets. Every season of the year had its holiday customs and quaint
manner of observance, some of them confined to particular counties,
but many of them universally observed.
In the volume, recently published, which treated of the story and
the antiquities of “Our English Villages,” I pointed out that the
Church was the centre of the life of the old village–not only of
its religious life, but also of its secular every-day life. This is
true also with regard to the amusements of the people. The festival
of the saint, to whom the parish church was dedicated, was
celebrated with much rejoicing. The annual fair was held on that
day, when, after their business was ended, friends and neighbours
met together and took part in some of the sports and pastimes which
I shall try to describe. The other holidays of the year were
generally regulated by the Churchs calendar, the great
festivals–Christmas, Easter, Ascension Day, Whit Sunday—being all
duly observed. I propose to record in these pages the principal
sports, pastimes, and customs which our forefathers delighted in
during each month of the year, the accounts of which are not only
amusing, but add to our historical knowledge, and help us to realize
something of the old village life of rural England.
We will begin with New Years Day[1]. It was an ancient Saxon custom
to begin the year by sending presents to each other. On New Years
Eve the wassail bowl of spiced ale was carried round from house to
house by the village maidens, who sang songs and wished every one “A
Happy New Year.” “Wassail” is an old Saxon word, meaning “Be in
health.” Rowena, the daughter of the Saxon king Hengist, offered a
flowing bowl to the British king Vortigern, welcoming him with the
words, “Lloured King Wassheil.” In Devonshire and Sussex it was the
custom to wassail the orchards; a troop of boys visited the
orchards, and, encircling the apple-trees, they sang the words–
“Stand fast, bear well top,
Pray God send us a howling crop;
Every twig, apples big;
Every bough, apples enow;
Hats full, caps full,
Full quarter-sacks full.”