nd here all-tempting frumenty."

Frumenty, which is made of wheat boiled in milk was a standing dish
at every harvest supper. And then around the festive board old tales
are told, well-known jests abound, and thanks given to the good
farmer and his wife for their hospitality in some such homely rhymes
as these--

"Here's a health to our master,
The lord of the feast;
God bless his endeavours,
And send him increase.

"May everything prosper
That he takes in hand,
For we be his servants,
And do his command."

The youths and maidens dance their country dances, as an old writer,
who lived in the reign of Charles II., tells us:--"The lad and the
lass will have no lead on their heels. O, 'tis the merry time
wherein honest neighbours make good cheer, and God is glorified in
His blessings on the earth." When the feast is over, the company
retire to some near hillock, and make the welkin ring with their
shouts, "Holla, holla, holla, largess!"--largess being the presents
of money and good things which the farmer had bestowed.

Such was the harvest-home in the good old days--joy and delight to
both old and young. The toils of the labourers did not seem so hard
and wearisome when they knew that the farmers had such a grateful
sense of their good services; and if any one felt aggrieved or
discontented, the mutual intercourse at the harvest-home, when all
were equal, when all sat at the same table and conversed freely
together, soon banished all ill-feeling, and promoted a sense of
mutual trust, which is essential to the happiness and well-being of
any community. Shorn of much of its merriment and quaint customs,
the harvest-home still lingers on in some places; but modern habits
and notions have deprived it of much of its old spirit and
light-heartedness. We have our harvest thanksgiving services, which
(thank God!) are observed in almost every village and hamlet. It is,
of course, our first duty to thank God for the fruits of His bounty
and love; but the harvest-home should not be forgotten. When
labourers simply regard harvest-time as a season when they can earn
a few shillings more than usual, and take no further interest in
their work, or in the welfare of their master, all brightness
vanishes from their industry: their minds become sordid and
mercenary; and mutual trust, good-feeling, and fellowship cease to
exist.

Neither did the harvest