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arrive at the Nab too late, you may call all night for the
boat, and it will not come. The traveller may judge for
himself how much of the local tale may be true. He may
probably have heard of the Crier of Claife, whose fame has
spread far beyond the district: but if not, he should hear
of the Crier now, while within sight of Ferry Nab. If he
asks who or what the Crier was,- that is precisely what
nobody can tell, though every body would be glad to know:
but we know all how and about it, except just what it really
was. It gave its name to the place now called the Crier of
Claife,- the old quarry in the wood, which no man will go
near at midnight:-
It was about the time of the Reformation, one stormy night,
when a party of travellers were making merry at the
Ferry-house,- then a humble tavern,- that a call for the
boat was heard from the Nab. A quiet, sober boatman obeyed
the call, though the night was wild and fearful. When he
ought to be returning, the tavern guests stepped out upon
the shore, to see whom he would bring. He returned alone,
ghastly and dumb with horror. Next morning, he was in a high
fever; and in a few days he died, without having been
prevailed upon to say what he had seen at the Nab. For weeks
after, there were shouts, yells, and howlings at the Nab, on
every stormy night: and no boatman would attend to any call
after dark. The Reformation had not penetrated the region;
and the monk from Furness who dwelt on one of the islands of
the lake, was applied to to exorcise the Nab. On Christmas
day, he assembled all the inhabitants on Chapel Island, and
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