craft
With yew-bow and shaft,
Wand to splinter, or pierce the bull's-eye.

And while the youth gay,
Rough rivals, essay
To rive and riddle each butt,
Sage sires stand by,
And coy maidens cry,
To welcome the winning shot.

Full many such scene
Has been witnessed, I ween,
In that whilome time-honoured spot,
'Neath the wide-spreading shade
Of the green wood glade
Which is still named the "Thimbleby Butt."

In this "Butts" field rises a spring, which is the source of a small
runnel, called "Daubeny's Beck." This bearing westward, for some
distance forms the boundary between the parishes of Thimbleby and
Langton, then flowing through Woodhall falls into the "Monk's Beck," at
Poolham. The name "Daubeny" is doubtless a corruption of D' Albini. The
D' Albinis held the Barony, and built the castle of Belvoir, and had
other large possessions in this county and elsewhere; the name is not
uncommon as a field name, &c. There is a field in Langton called
"Daubeny's (_i.e._ D' Albini's) Walk."

In the grounds of Mr. W. A. Crowder, further to the east, near the
Lincoln "Ramper," as the highway is locally called, there was found, a
few years ago, a so-called "Roman" tomb, somewhat rudely constructed of
blocks of Spilsby sandstone. Within it was a human skeleton, with bones
of a dog, a sword, and the head of a spear. In connection with this, we
may also mention, that in the Rectory grounds there is an ancient well,
of great depth, lined also with Spilsby sandstone, and said to be Roman;
which in the immediate proximity of the Cornucastrum, or Roman fort of
Banovallum, would not seem to be at all improbable.

An old parish book of Thimbleby, recently shown to the writer, proves the
care which was taken by the parish officials, before the present poor law
system was established, to secure the comfort and maintenance of poorer
parishioners.

At a parish meeting, Nov. 1st, 1819, Thomas Kemp, Churchwarden, in the
chair, it was ordered that John Sharp's daughter was to have a gown and
pettycoat, worsted for two pairs of stockings, and one blue apron. Four
boys were to have two smocks each, and eight old people a strike of coals
each per week. At another meeting Margaret Day was to have worsted for
two pairs of socks for her two boys, herself to spin it; and one pair of
shoes for her daughter. Robert Kemp, and his son Richard, in order to
find them work were to be pai