At this time, and long before, the men of Zennor were noticeable for
their singing and other musical attainments, which they made a source
of pleasure and profit, to themselves at least, from their being often
asked to parish-feasts from a good distance off, especially down West
(the wise folk live t’other side) that the feasters might be gratified
by their harmonious strains in church on the Sunday, and brisk dancing
tunes on their fiddles to set their heels a-shaking on other nights of
the feasten week, besides for the sake of the new songs they often
contrived to learn from the show people in Corpus Christi fair. But
they were not often asked two years following, because when they once
got into comfortable quarters, it was no easy matter to get rid of them
until long after servy-day, [20] when they had more than eaten their
welcome. For the sake of their psalm-singing they used also to be often
asked to attend funerals round about, when the friends wished to show
more than ordinary respect to the deceased or themselves, and have the
disconsolate widows cheered. The Zennor men, with their wives and
children, never failed to come, with half a word’s asking, from miles
away, and they have the same fondness for funerals still; whether
seed-time or harvest, sunshine or rainy day, Zennor folks, old and
young, will leave their work and scamper over hills and moors miles
away to “a good buryal” (burying), where there is likely to be plenty
of toddy and tobacco, cake and biscuit, provided for all comers. But
their room is often better liked than their company; for, after the men
have smoked and pocketed up as much good shag as opportunity would
favour them to take, by stuffing into the palm of the hand instead of
the bowl of the pipe, drunk as much toddy as they could possibly
contrive to get hold of by shifting about from place to place, so as to
be always near the jug of hot liquor as it is carried round for the
people who remain outside, the women and children all push indoors that
can, to look sharp after the cake and biscuits, of which they contrive
to pocket up a good store for the children left home, and don’t forget
the toddy, believe me, even if they have a “dish of nice, sweet, strong
tea, shure enough.” After having stuffed and quaffed till near bursting
point, they will scamper away home like prall’d [21] dogs, and the
devil a finger will they lend to help take the poor defunct to his last
home, often miles away, leave alone the singing. They are often too
drunk to raise the funeral note, and make some fun, which serves just
as well, by getting into an old ballad-tune by mistake. Zennor folks
are not often asked to parish feasts for the sake of their singing now:
they may stay home and bleat to Carn Galver for what anyone cares about
the greedy goats.