(Paradise Lost, Book iv. 651.)
Here, however, in the New Forest, we find the original signification of the word preserved.
Let us further notice one or two more words, which are used by Milton and his contemporaries, and even much later, but which are now found in the Forest, and doubtless elsewhere, as mere provincialisms. Thus, though we do not meet his “tale,” in the sense of number, as in L’Allegro,—
“And every shepherd tells his tale,
Under the hawthorn in the dale;”
—that is, number of sheep: we find its allied word “toll,” to count. “I toll ten cows,” is no very uncommon expression. Then, too, we have the word “tole,” used, as I believe it still is in America, of enticing animals, and thus metaphorically applied to other matters. So, in this last sense, Milton speaks of the title of a book, “Hung out like a toling sign-post to call passengers.”[232]
Again, too, the bat is here called “rere-mouse” (from the Old-English hrere-mus, from hreran to flutter, literally the fluttering mouse, the exact equivalent of the German Flitter-maus[233]), with its varieties rennie-mouse and reiny-mouse,[234] whilst the adjective “rere” is sometimes used, as in Wiltshire, for raw. On the other hand, the word fliddermouse, or, as in the eastern division of Sussex, flindermouse (from the High-German fledermaus), does not, to my knowledge, occur. In the Midland counties it is often known as “leathern wings” (compare ledermus); and thus, Shakspeare, with his large vocabulary, using up every phrase and metaphor which he ever met, makes Titania say of her fairies:—
“Some war with rear-mice for their leathern wings.”
(Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act ii., sc. 3.)
To take a few words common, not only to the New Forest, but to various parts of the West of England, we shall see how strong is the Old-English element here in the common speech. The housewife still baits (betan, literally to repair, and so, when joined with fyr, to light) the fire, and on cold days makes it blissy (connected with blysa, a torch). The crow-boy in the spring sets up a gally-bagger (gælan, in its last meaning to terrify), instead of the “maukin” of the north, to frighten away the birds from the seed; and the shepherd still tends his chilver-lamb (cilferlamb) in the barton (bere tun, literally the barley enclosure). The labourer still sits under the lew (hleow, or “hleowð,” shelter, warmth) of the hedge, which he has been ethering (“eðer,” a hedge); and drives the stout (stut, a gadfly) away from his horses; and feels himself lear (lærnes, emptiness), before he eats his nammit (nón-mete), or his dew-bit (deaw-bite).