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As 10 clock fires were seen from St. Ives, a distance of 30 miles, St. Agnes Point, and Carnmarth. This was followed by the fire lit by Dr. Stephens, and in the distance could be seen Hensbarrow fire. After three cheers had been given, the fire was Iighted, and watched by a large crowd.

CHILDREN HELP.

Owing to circumstances, the task of preparing the St. Austell Society's fire on Hensbarrow Beacon could not be undertaken by members of the Old Cornwall Society, but the hon. secretary, Mr. W. J. Rich, delegated the preparation of the fire to Mr. Harvey, headmaster of Roche Council School, who willingly agreed that the children and himself would gather the materials on the Beacon, and that he would obtain sanction for the lighting of the fire.

At the Bodmin Beacon no less then 15 different blazes were seen. Many of them, it was presumed, were not the "official" fires of the Old Cornish Society, but were the work of people anxious to participate in the novelty of the occasion.

Amongst those recognized were the fires at Hensbarrow, St. Cleer Downs, Kit Hill-very faintly and one in the vicinity of Padstow. The Bodmin fire was not a large one, and soon it went out, but it was not sufficient for those present, for all the gorse that was available was collected, and another fire was started.

To pass theme away wrestling was indulged in on the Beacon, and was watched by a large crowd.

Liskeard Old Cornwall Society bonfire at Saint Cleer Downs attracted a crowd of 1,000. Prior to the lighting of the bonfire Mr. E. Spurway took his stand on an adjacent rock and called upon the vicar of St. Cleer to open the proceedings with a recital of the Gorsedd Prayer. Mr. Lewis Scantelbery addressed the gathering on the origin of the ancient customs arising from sun worship and developing to the bonfires at later ages. Shortly after ten p.m. the light from the Western Beacon at Hensbarrow was perceived, and immediately Mrs. Dawson, wife of the vicar, applied the torch to the bonfire, which blazed up at once and gave the signal in turn to the Callington bonfire on Kit Hill, which responded with equal promptitude. Several other fires were observed on neighbouring heights.

St. Pinnock Silver Prize Band halted at the bonfire, and played selections.

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AN HISTORIC SPOT

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KINDLING THE FINAL FLAME ON KIT HILL

Kit Hill, rearing its giant head to an altitude of 1,067 feet above sea level and dominating the eastern end of Cornwall, is an impressive place to visit on any occasion, but to be there in the gleaming of a beautiful Midsummer night just before the mantle of darkness completely gathers to its embrace the magnificent surrounding countryside, is to experience an atmosphere which is tense, if not eerie.

In the blaze of sunshine one had viewed the four points of the compass stretching away from the base of the hill in an unending panorama. With the dipping of the sun behind the western rim of Cornwall one watched long shadows chase one another across the countryside, turning from blue to purple, until distance gently lessened, leaving just a sight of the immediate surroundings and the knowledge of the great beyond stretching out into the night.

Last night the wonderful silence of eventide on Kit Hill was broken. Here in a modern atmosphere was taking place one of those age-old scenes which played such a part in the lives of the ancient Cornish folk, who, so simple in their habits and so profoundly superstitious in their outlook, left to the world of to-day a wealth of quaint customs and peculiar ritual.

MEMORIES AROUSED.

All around the countryside began to lose its characteristics as night-time fell, and wrapped it in gentle embrace. Did the spirits of the ancient Phoenicians, those daring adventurers and traders in Cornish tin, roam Kit Hill to watch the quaint custom which had not disturbed their tranquility for a century? Did the ghosts of those warriors who fell in the slaughter of the battle of A.D. 835 on the slopes of Kit Hill, between the forces of Egbert, the Wessex King, and a combination of Britons and Danes, stir in their centuries of slumber to watch events? Did the pixies and the elves come out to join in the revels or gaze in stupefied amazement at the scene? It was very easy to be imaginative on Kit Hill as one looked through the gloaming to the westward and awaited the flare of hill-top beacons.

By vehicle and on foot the Cornish folk of this part of the county wended their way to Kit Hill. The trek up over its gentle slopes was nothing like so irksome as when the ancients stormed the summit to light their beacon of rejoicing and join in their revels and customs. In those days there were probably just the few rough mining paths leading to the hilltop: today there is a road of excellent surface, which carries motorists and picnic parties to the highest point.

At the spot where the pixie revels were wont to take place there is now an eighteen holes putting green; and where the village maidens and men sang their folk-songs and linked hands in their folk-dances the brass band of Callington provides a somewhat crude touch of modernity.

IMPRESSIVE CEREMONY.

Here where the Parliament of Tinners for Devon and Cornwall used periodically to meet before the reign of Henry III. for the formation of mining laws and regulations, the rallying of Cornishmen of the eastern end of the county took place a full hour before the beacon fires were to form their chain along distant hill-tops. The ceremony opened impressively with the reading of the Gorsedd prayer by Rev. R. W. Marsh. The sun was riding low in the western sky when the minister uttered this prayer, and it was an impressive moment in the silence of the breeze-swept hill when he paused at the end.

Then came a brief welcome from the Presi dent (Col. E. J. Marsack), after which the Recorder (Mr. William H. Paynter) gave a short description of many ancient customs connected with Midsummer.

After this the people gathered in the shelter from the wind, but kept a keen eye looking to the western hills for signs of the fires in these districts. Gradually the twilight gathered, but the western sky was still aflame with the rays of the setting sun. In the distance the lights of Plymouth began to twinkle, and the Eddystone sent out a modern beacon light to shipping. Then, at 10 o'clock, the first fires were seen away on the Cheesewring, and gradually these pin-points of flame bobbed up in various directions, until altogether somewhere about half a dozen ecu'd be seen. The president then took charge of the torches, and set fire to the Kit Hill pile.

In a moment it had flamed up, and then it stood out a mass of flame and smoke, and must have been one of the most conspicuous beacon fires throughout the long chain. People still stayed on, and as the fire lessened they danced around on the green, and so completed the ceremony marking an old custom as interesting as it was impressive.