I asked him about his wife and children. But I could get very little from him, and that little in a low voice. I felt sorry for him, for I understood that parting with his flagon had rather upset him. He seemed as different as one could imagine from the singer I had seen when I entered. He told me that his was a very old family in this place, and his name was Ralph Copplestone. He also quoted the following adage to strengthen his statement:—
"Crocker, Cruwys and Copplestone,
When the Conqueror came were all at home."
Before he left me, however, he had recovered his cheerfulness. He set off down the road, and as he passed he began singing:
"Dorset gives us butter and cheese,
Devonshire gives us cream,
Zummerzet zyder's zure to please
And set your hearts a-dream;
Cornwall, from her inmost soul,
Brings tin for the use of man,