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t of the Burning Pestle (iii. 4): There is a pretty tale of a witch that had the devil's mark about her, that had a giant to be her son, that was called Lob-lye-by-the-Fire. Grimm[17] mentions a spirit, named the Good Lubber, to whom the bones of animals used to be offered at Manseld, in Germany. Once more, the phrase of being in, or getting into Lob's pound, is easy of explanation, presuming Lob to be a fairy epithet--the term being equivalent to Poake-ledden or Pixy-led.[18] In Hudibras this

hunt for them, that the following pages are totreat. It is a subject more closely connected with the taste forcuriosities than with art, strictly so called. We are to beoccupied, not so much with literature as with books, not so muchwith criticism as with bibliography, the quaint duenna ofliterature, a study apparently dry, but not without its humours.And here an apology must be made for the frequent allusions andanecdotes derived from French writers. These are as unavoidable,almost, as the use

ew of all the village might have been statues for the time, so motionless, so tense was each.Not many actually heard the words of old Eph Adamson--words wrung out of the bitterness of his own soul perhaps, but words intolerable none the less. None had heard the words of Aurora Lane and the young man as they had spoken previous to this. None guessed who the stranger was or might be--none but drunken Eph Adamson. But all could see what now happened. For one instant the young man stood almost like