ct from
their charm; instead of doing so, the pilgrim in search of
ecclesiastical interest finds much to draw him to them.

As a contrast to Helperthorpe, the adjoining hamlet of Weaverthorpe has
a church of very early Norman or possibly Saxon date, and an inscribed
Saxon stone a century earlier than the one at Kirkdale, near Kirby
Moorside. The inscription is on a sundial over the south porch in both
churches; but while that of Kirkdale is quite complete and perfect,
this one has words missing at the beginning and end. Haigh suggests
that the half-destroyed words should read: "LIT OSCETVLI
ARCHIEPISCOPI." Then, without any doubt comes: "[ILLUSTRATION] IN:
HONORE: SCE: ANDREAE APOSTOLI: HEREBERTUS WINTONIE: HOC MONASTERIVM
FECIT: I IN TEMPORE REGN." Here the inscription suddenly stops and
leaves us in ignorance as to in whose time the monastery was built.
There seems little doubt at all that Father Haigh's suggested
completion of the sentence is correct, making it read: "IN TEMPORE
REGN[ALDI REGIS SECUNDI]," which would have just filled a complete
line.

The coins of Regnald II. of Northumbria bear Christian devices, and it
is known that he was confirmed in 942, while his predecessor of that
name appears to have been a pagan. If the restoration of the first
words of the inscription are correct, the stone cannot be placed
earlier than the year 952 (Dr. Stubbs says 958), when Oscetul succeeded
Wulstan to the See of York. However, even in a neighbourhood so replete
with antiquities this is sufficiently far back in the age of the
Vikings to be of thrilling interest, for you must travel far to find
another village church with an inscription carved nearly a thousand
years ago, at a time when the English nation was still receiving its
infusion of Scandinavian strength.

The arch of the tower and the door below the sundial have the
narrowness and rudeness suggesting the pre-Norman age, but more than
this it is unwise to say.

And so we go on through the wide sunny valley, watching the shadows
sweep across the fields, where often the soil is so thin that the
ground is more white than brown, scanning the horizon for tumuli, and
taking note of the different characteristics of each village. Not long
ago the houses, even in the small towns, were thatched, and even now
there are hamlets still cosy and picturesque under their mouse-coloured
roofs; but in most instances you see a transition state of tiles
gradually ousting the in