. Highways and byways in Devon and Cornwall. t Poundstock Inn on the day of the great stormrode away at high speed, or at any pace above a walk, the land-lady who served him must have been very dull if she did notat once know him to be the devil, for nobody else could do it.It would be quite easy to write volumes on this subject.There is no vice within the reach of roads in which thesebyways do not wallow. They are steep beyond description.They are never level. They are covered with loose stone, sothat it is impossible to ride a bicycle either up or down them.They start suddenly round sharp co
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. Highways and byways in Devon and Cornwall. t Poundstock Inn on the day of the great stormrode away at high speed, or at any pace above a walk, the land-lady who served him must have been very dull if she did notat once know him to be the devil, for nobody else could do it.It would be quite easy to write volumes on this subject.There is no vice within the reach of roads in which thesebyways do not wallow. They are steep beyond description.They are never level. They are covered with loose stone, sothat it is impossible to ride a bicycle either up or down them.They start suddenly round sharp corners as if shying at theirshadows, and then plunge madly into the ravine, resolved tocast you headlong to the bottom. There is a song known tomost people born in the west, and to some who had not thatgood fortune, which is, properly read, neither more nor lessthan a parable of Dartmoor roads. It goes thus, with a comiclilt inexpressibly grateful to the ear: Tom Pearse, Tom Pearse, lend me thy grey mare, All along, down along, out along Lee;. Tom Pearses old marc her look sick and died. [To face p. 91. v WIDDECOMBE FAIR 01 For I want for to go to Widdecombe FairWiih Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, DanlWhiddon, Harry Haul;, Old Uncle Tom Cobleigh and all.Chorus: Old Uncle Tom Cobleigh and all. Now Tom Pearse was inclined to make objections, but tbeywere overruled with the assurance that the beast would berestored by Friday soon, or Saturday noon. But it was notso. Tom grew anxious ; and the song proceeds : So Tom Pearse he got up to the top of the hill, All along, down along, oul along LeejAnd he seed his old mare down a making her will, With ?>ill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, DanlWhiddon, Harry Hawk, Old Uncle Tom Cobleigh and all.Chorus: Old Uncle Tom Cobleigh and all. It is plain enough that the poor brute had been spavined ;nothing else could be expected on such roads. In fact, eventhat was not the worst of it, for the animal was at the