things as unknown to us as elves and fairies. In the Commemoration
Service we speak gratefully of all those who "found out musical tunes."
If ever a man deserved remembrance for literally finding out tunes it is
Mr. Sharp.

But to return to the musical instruments of the Morris dancers--the Pipe
and Tabor. I am told that the little drum on which the piper accompanies
his tune should be pronounced 'tabber.' I have no doubt this is right.
The Oxfordshire name Dub suggests it, and the old French word Tabour is
something of an argument in the same direction. In Wright's _Dialect
Dictionary_ it is said that the lesser spotted woodpecker is called the
"tabberer" from its habit of drumming on tree trunks. I should like to
call my pipe a "tabberer's" pipe if only out of affection for the little
black and white bird and his drum, but the modern pronunciation, with a
long _a_, has a strong hold and can hardly be ousted. We nowadays put
the pipe before the tabor, but in Shakespearian days this was not so. In
_The Tempest_ Ariel plays the tune "Flout 'em and scout 'em" on a tabor
and pipe--and the artist was called a taborer {98} not a piper. In the
same way the Provencal performer on the two instruments was (according to
Daudet), and I hope still is, known as the tabourinaire.

Morris dancing, for which the tabor and pipe once supplied the music, is
now an everyday accomplishment. At Cambridge one may see Fellows of
Colleges dancing, waving handkerchiefs and knocking sticks in the old
manner, and I hope the same is true of Oxford.

But piping is not so common. Some of us have heard Mr. Sharp at a
lecture, or Mr. Haydn Coffin on the stage. But it is not an art likely
to spread rapidly, because the old English is pipe rare and hard to come
by, and copies are not common either.

I began to learn the taborer's art on a French or Basque galoubet
obtained in Oxford from that kind friend of many musicians, the late Mr.
Taphouse. But it was only quite recently, when Mr. Manning lent me an
old Oxfordshire instrument and allowed me to have it copied, that I made
any kind of progress.

I do not know when playing the "whittle and dub" (as they were called)
became extinct as a village art. It certainly existed thirty years ago,
and for all I know there are still some living who could hand on the
grand manner of taboring. Mr. Taphouse remembered very well the days
when the pipe and drum were heard all round Oxford at fairs a