Some centuries since as tradition makes known,
			An Englishman plucky and stout,
			On entering a certain enclosure alone
			Was told he had better keep out.

			That a dangerous bull in the pasture was kept,
			From which he'd be sure of attack.
			"Have no fears" said the yeoman, as bravely he stepped
			O'er the stile, "but I never turn back".


			He passed unmolested, till half way across,
			When the bull his appearance put in,
			With his two horny bayonets ready to toss
			The intruder, and riddle his skin.

			And rushed on his foe with his nose to the ground,
			Closing up, ere collision, his eyes,
			When the man on the watch, sprang aside with a bound,
			Very much to the creature's surprise.

			‘Twas a furious charge, yet the brute nothing hit,
			Now, resistance, his tactics confused;
			Just what to do next was too much for his wit,
			In his confidence, so much abused.
	
			On the instant, the man, while his foe is at fault,
			Grasps hold of the animal's horns;
			His turn having come, as he deems, to assault,
			Though advantage of weapon, he scorns.

			Then giving a sudden and powerful twist
			On the horns with his sinewy hands,
			The joints of the spinal, they could not resist.
			And dead dropped the bull on the sands.

			Had he met the wild bull, he was asked the next day,
			"Not a bull" unconcerned he replied,
			But he had met a calf and attempted to play
			With the weak little thing,
			When it died.

			Met-a-calf		
			As contracted to Metcalf, became 
			Our forefathers' cognomen then;
			And it has, ever since, as a family name 		
			Been respectably known among men. 
							Author Unknown