And when her legs were cutted off she fought upon her stumps.”
In the churchyard of Hoddam is found:—
“Here lyes a man, who all his mortal life
Past mending clocks, but could not mend his wyfe,
The ’larum of his bell was ne’er sae shrill
As was her tongue—aye clacking like a mill.
But now he’s gane—oh! whither nane can tell—
I hope beyond the sound o’ Mally’s bell.”
Over the last lair of a Glasgow magistrate there is written:—
“Here lyes—read it with your hats on—