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QUEER FOLK.
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The Witch of Ballaquoich.


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,5<w.
i
1


QUEER FOLK
SEVEN STORIES
HY THE _ \
Rr Hon. E. H. KXATCHBULI.-H UGESSEN* M.P.,
Author ,/
"Stories for my Children," "Crackers for Christmas," ''Moonshine," &c.
iLLUSTRATED BY S. E. WALLER.
DON i; '''

Jfonbon:
MACMILLAN AND CO.
1874-


--
→ → → → →
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→…»…»


Materia,
PREFACE.
WELL, and so they are "Queer Folk," and I don't
care who says the contrary. There is a Warlock—
a Witch—a society of Pig-faced Ladies—a quantity
of Elves, and several other things and persons which
any unprejudiced individual will at once allow to be
queer enough to justify the !iame,I have chosen. In
fact, I think they are altogether as queer a collection
of creatures as ever came together in a story-book;
and if anyone objects to thsiiitk, I can only say that
if he will write seven queerer stories, and find a better
name for the book which contains them, I shall be
very much obliged to him.
I hope, however, that the boys and girls, great and
small, for whom I write, will find my creatures amus-
ing as well as queer; and if so, anybody who pleases
may find fault with the title of the book. After all,
the title has more to do with the outside than the
inside of a volume. One does not like an oyster any


vi PREFACE.
the less because his shell is hard and rough, nor is a
golden plover a bit the worse bird if he happens to
be written down as a quail on the bill of fare. So if
the stories are amusing, a fig for the title; and if any-
body does not like the latter, let him at once turn
over the title-page, and eat his oyster comfortably
without thinking any more about the shell.
»


CONTENTS.
PAOB
I. The Warlock of Coombe i
II. The Witch of Ballaquoich 87
III. The Pig-faced Queen 143
IV. Little Grub 204
V. The Barn Elves 233
VI. The Strange City 276
VII. The Old Bachelor Married 298


V.


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Page
THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH . . . . . . Frontispiece.
THE PIG-FACED LADIEs . . . . . . . . . Vignette.
THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE . . . . . . . . . . . . 16
THE Hog-wash BATH. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191
LITTLE GRUB . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228
THE BARN ELVEs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 267
THE LADY AND THE ADMIRAL . . . . . . . . . . . . .339





QUEER FOLK,
i.
THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE.
The great range of chalk hills known as the Back-
bone of Kent, starts boldly and abruptly from the
good town of Dover, and cuts through the very heart
of the ancient county. If you climb from the valley to
the top of the hills, you find yourself, at many points,
in a somewhat barren country, with plenty of flint
stones in the fields and scrubby oaks in the woods.
These no doubt have their advantages; but, upon the
whole, I prefer the valley, a glorious view of which
you can enjoy after your climb, and which smiles
before you as you look down upon it and the lovely
fringe of blue sea which bounds your view. Some-
where above the town of Wye the range of hills
politely stops, allowing space for the beautiful Valley
of the Stour, beyond which it begins again and con-
tinues its course behind Eastwell Park into other parts
of Kent, whither I have no time to follow it to-day.
For my tale is of the Home range of Hills, which I
B
-?


QUEER FOLK.
have so often traversed, and the legends of which are
so deeply impressed upon my memory. From Stow-
ting to Wye the Hill is Fairyland to me. From the
earliest periods of Fairyland history, this particular
part of the Backbone is known to have been the
favourite haunt of witches, wizards, and such like in-
teresting individuals; and as, ever and anon, I come
to know something of the history of one or other of
these creatures, duty and inclination alike compel me
to impart my knowledge to a wondering world.
In the old, old days in which the scene of my story
is laid, the face of the country was of course very
different from its present appearance. The land was
not nearly so well or so generally cultivated; the
houses were more rudely built, and many things which
are deemed necessary to existence in the days we live
in were not even known in those distant times. The
habits of the people, too, were different—there was
less cultivation and more politeness; labouring men
touched their hats to squire and parson, and farmers'
daughters learned to make puddings and manage
poultry instead of playing on the pianoforte and
cutting out the squire's lady altogether in the matter
of apparel. In those benighted days it was that the
Wise Man, or the Warlock (as he was sometimes
called), of Coombe was the talk of the country round.
Bra bourne Coombe a goodly farm in those days, and
one which has ever maintained its character as such,
was situated, then as now, between Coombe Wood
and the great range of Chalk Hills, that part of which,
immediately north of the farm, has been known from
time immemorial as Brabourne Down. Nowadays


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 3
the passing traveller sees only a wide expanse of
down, studded with divers thorn-trees, and indented
by a chalk-pit here and there, the chalk of which is
counted sweet and wholesome to be carried down to
the clay lands in the vale below. But the place was
of rougher and wilder aspect at the time of my story.
Thorn-trees there were by hundreds, and withal brakes
and brambles, and tangled thickets of dense under-
wood, where mortal foot might scarce pass, and in
which wild animals couched in comparative security.
One great chalk-pit there was, well known to all the
country-side, not only on account of its size and appa-
rent depth (for few there were, if any, who had ever
explored it at sufficiently close quarters to hazard a
guess as to what that size and depth really were), but
also because it was the usual home and abode of that
dread and mysterious being, the Wise Man of Coombe.
Who or what he was, whence he came, and to what
country he originally belonged, were things known to
no man. Neither could anyone exactly remember
when he had first appeared in the neighbourhood of
Coombe. All that can be said is that, somehow or
other, he had acquired so great a reputation for wisdom,
and had evinced such extraordinary powers of a ma-
gical nature, that he was held in the greatest awe by
the whole neighbourhood. Even over his jolly flagon
of ale the rustic trembled at the mention of the Wise
Man; women gathered their cloaks around them and
hurried by the chalk-pit of Brabourne Down, if their
homeward way chanced to lie in that direction; and
the very children at play, in their infantile disputes,
threatened each other that "the Wise Man should
B 2


QUEER FOLK. [t.
- I-
be told of them." It will therefore be no matter of
surprise to my readers to learn that good Farmer
Kellatt, of Coombe Farm, was a devout believer in,
and a firm friend to, the Wise Man of Coombe.
Indeed, to be the former was almost of necessity to
be the latter, so far as the farmer was concerned.
The farmhouse stood barely a quarter of a mile from
the chalk-pit, and to have been at feud with its
mysterious occupant would have been a deep and
dire misfortune.
Now, Farmer Kellatt was one of those men who
were once the types of English agriculturists, but
whom the advancement of agricultural science has
rendered the exception rather than the rule. He was
a firm believer in all that his father, grandfather, and
great-grandfather had believed before him, and shrank
from new ideas and new theories with a thorough old-
fashioned John Bull prejudice. Having ploughed
with four horses all his life, nothing would have per-
suaded him that the process could be satisfactorily
carried on, even on light lands, by a lesser number.
To get rid of rushes by draining, to look upon weeds
as mortal enemies, and to expend money in trimming
hedges, levelling molehills, and enclosing waste ground,
were things which never entered into his imagination.
If the "wetness of the land caused the rushes to grow,
was it not intended by nature that the land in that
part of the farm should be wet? Would the ground
be rough and overgrown with weeds if it had not
been so ordered? And if he could grow plenty of
corn and other produce on the land immediately
under cultivation, why throw away money in trying


THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE.
to get a little more, or in affecting to make his farm
smarter than that of his neighbours? No, no ; a
plodding, honest, worthy man was Farmer Kellatt,
paying his way as he went, and owing no man any-
thing; but as for changes and so-called improve-
ments, he would have nothing to say to them. For
the rest, the worthy farmer had all the characteristics
of an agricultural Englishman. He rose early, was,
out in the open air the greater part of the day, dined
(except on market days) punctually at two o'clock,
and became particularly fidgety if he had to wait five
minutes for his dinner.
But do not suppose I should have entered into
this description of the occupier of Brabourne Coombe
had he been the only individual resident in the
old farmhouse. There was another person of far
greater importance in the eyes of not a few of the
surrounding neighbours. Grace Kellatt was the
only child of the farmer, and a child of whom
any father might well have been proud. She was
fair—very fair—with the blue eyes which are sup-
posed to betoken Saxon origin, and that sweet ex-
pression of countenance which is a sure sign of a
kind and true heart. She was a general favourite
wherever she went, and the darling of her father's
heart. Her great delight was to be out in the open
air, the longer and oftener the better, and one of
her principal enjoyments was to ride a certain grey
pony, which bore the name of " Kitty," and was as
fond of its young mistress as she could desire. On
this pony Grace would roam far and wide, over the
Downs and deep into the woods, and many a happy
-


QUEER FOLK. [i.
hour did she thus spend amid the lovely scenery of
her home. Grace, however, being a farmer's daughter
of the olden time, did not neglect those domestic
duties to which it was the fashion to attend at the
time of which I write. She could bake, make pies
and custards, milk the cows, and do a number of
things which in the present day would be thought
sadly beneath the elevated position of a person in her
rank of life. As to chickens, she was famous for the
success she always had in the management of those
interesting birds, and Grace Kellatt's poultry were
well known through all the district.
With such a daughter it is not surprising that
Farmer Kellatt had a happy home and was a
happy man. I mentioned, however, that on mar-
ket-days the good farmer did not dine at home
at his usual hour. The fact is, that it had been
his custom for many years to attend the markets
held at the neighbouring town of Ashford, which
was some four miles from Brabourne Coombe "as
the crow flies," or rather (as no road ever follows
the habit of the crow in flying straight) some six
miles to drive by the road. After the market there
was always a pleasant dinner, at which the farmers
of the neighbourhood met each other, ate ravenously,
discussed their liquor cheerfully, and enjoyed them-
selves after their own hearts. Farmer Kellatt was
always one of this party, and it was at one of their
festive gatherings that the incident occurred from
which commenced the veneration of the farmer for
the Warlock of Coombe.
It had been a good market—a very good market—


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 7
and the agriculturists had every reason to be satisfied
with their day. It is not, however, in the nature of
an agriculturist to be too well satisfied, and of course
there were some little things, connected with the
weather and the crops, which afforded sufficient ex-
cuse for some of that wholesome grumbling without
which your true Englishman is never thoroughly
happy. But there was only just enough grumbling
to be comfortable, and the party assembled were as
merry as need be. They ate and drank heartily, and
after dinner were rather more lively than before. That
which somewhat added to their hilarity was the un-
wonted presence of a stranger. No one knew his
name, but he had appeared in the market that day,
had made himself generally pleasant, and, having
announced that he was doing business for a London
house, had shown a capacity and knowledge in deal-
ing with agricultural matters which had procured him
the respect of the farming community who were that
day at market. He was a man of middle height,
rather inclined to be stout, with dark hair, and a keen
look about the eyes which made you feel that you
were not likely to get the better of him in a bargain.
This man, evidently possessed of abilities above the
common order, had so pleased the farmers that they
invited him to join their party at dinner, and found
no reason to regret their invitation. He laughed and
talked, ate and drank with the best of them, and
proved in fact the life and soul of the party. And
after a while, when the conversation flagged, the
stranger suggested singing, and, after some little
joking had passed upon the subject, volunteered a


QUEER FOLK.
song himself; and, on silence being obtained; struck
up the following :—
i.
Here's to the farmer who's got a good holding,
Deep land for ploughing and light land for folding;
Hay for the mowing and corn for the reaping:
His riches are growing the time he is sleeping!
Ho! Ha! bumpers of ale!
Drink we success to the scythe and the flail!
ii.
Here's to the farmer whom Fortune embraces;
Here's to the farmer who goes to the races;
Here's to the farmer who bets when he chooses;
Here's to the farmer who laughs when he loses!
Ho! Ha! bumpers of ale!
Drink we success to the scythe and the flail 1
in.
Here's to the farmer who hunts, shoots, and fishes;
Here's to the farmer who lives as he wishes;
Here's to the farmer whom sorrow ne'er reaches;
Here's to the farmer in top-boots and breeches!
Ho! Ha! bumpers of ale!
Drink we success to the scythe and the flail!
iV.
Here's to the farmer of stalwart dimensions;
Here's to the farmer who hates new inventions;
Here's to the man who lets none of them bore him,
Living as lived his forefathers before him!
Ho! Ha! bumpers of ale!
Drink we success to the scythe and the flail!
v.
Drink, every man, to the party around him:
He who refuses the toast—why, confound him!
Here's all good-luck to our traffic and barter,
And long be white wheat eighty shillings a quarter!
Ho! Ha! bumpers of ale!
Drink we success to the scythe and the flail!


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 9
This song having been received with shouts of
laughter and applause, no long interval was allowed
to elapse before the singer was again called upon to
entertain the company.
"No, no," said he ; " fair play's a jewel. I've sung
you my song, and now it's my right to call upon some-
body else. I see lots of singing faces here, if I could
only hit upon the right one."
So saying, he looked around; and presently, after a
whisper from some one of the party, he pitched upon
good Farmer Kellatt and asked him for a song. Now,
it so happened that Farmer Kellatt had one or two
songs for which he was celebrated among his brother
farmers, and a more popular choice could hardly have
been made. So, as soon as the stranger pronounced
his name, a shout of satisfaction arose from all the
party.
"Noble call! noble call!" they cried ; and our friend
from Coombe found that he had nothing for it but to
obey the order. So, after going through the usual
ceremony of saying, first that he had given up singing
long ago, next that he had a cold and was so hoarse
that he couldn't sing a note, and then that he was
really afraid he had forgotten the words, he com-
menced his favourite song as follows:—
1.
To New-mar-ket one season came
A noble-man of great honour and fame;
Ay, and he had a kinsman kept a grey mare—
Was called "Little Dun" with her close-cropped ear.
With a loddy, toddy, tol de rol loddy ti do.


io QUEER FOLK.
'
ii.
To the noble-man this kinsman cries,
"I've made up my mind for to win a prize;
I've matched little Dun this very day
To run against the lively Bay."
With a loddy, &c. &c.
III.
"O kinsman! O kinsman!" the noble says he,
"The lively Bay will surely beat thee;
Tho' I know little Dun to be swift and clear,
She's had nought but grass this three or four year."
With my loddy, &c. &c.
IV.
The day came on for the pair to run:
The gentry flocked in, and they betted like fun;
They hustled the gold that they'd got in store;
They down with that, and they bet as much more,
With their loddy, &c. &c.
v.
'Twas nine and ten to' one on the Bay,
But a lad that was there did a bold word say:
"I've forty bright guineas my uncle give me,
And I'll venture them all on Little Dun'ee."
With my loddy, &c. &c.
VI.
At the very first start it seemed he was wrong;
The lively Bay she was so strong,
That she left little Dun by the eighth of a mile,
Which caused the gentlemen all for to smile.
With their loddy, &c. &c
VII.
The jockey began to crack his whip,
Which made little Dun to dance and skip;
Ay, and as they came galloping over the moor,
The little Dun mare came tripping before,
With a loddy, &c. &c.


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. n
VIII.
So now little Dun has won the race,
No longer she must stop in the place:
She's won enough this very day
To make her master carry the sway,
With a loddy, toddy, tol de rol loddy ti do.
Whilst Farmer Kellatt was singing his song, the
stranger kept his eyes fixed earnestly upon him, and,
when he had concluded, warmly and loudly joined in
the applause with which it was received. Drawing his
chair nearer to that of the worthy farmer, he pro-
fessed a great desire to become better acquainted with
a man who could sing such a good song, and was
evidently such a pleasant companion. The farmer was
by no means indisposed to receive these advances
favourably. He was a simple-minded old fellow,
always ready to make friends, and well-disposed to
meet anyone half-way in that respect. So the two
chatted together about one thing and another until
the company had begun to disperse, and there were
few persons left in the room beside themselves. Then
the stranger asked how far from Ashford was Kellatt's
farm, and what sort of a place it was, and from one
'question to another he went on until the farmer pro-
posed that he should come and see for himself.
"Nothing I should like better," replied the man,
"but I have neither horse nor gig, nor do I know any-
one in these parts from whom I could borrow either."
"Don't let that be a hindrance," returned the farmer.
"Walters of the 'Turk's Head' has known me and
mine these fifty years and more, and he'll let you have
a horse to ride back along with me this very evening."


12 QUEER FOLK. [i.
I
The matter was thus easily arranged, and within
half an hour from the time at which this conversation
was held, Farmer Kellatt on his stout brown cob, and
the stranger on a chestnut mare supplied by the land-
lord of the "Turk's Head," might have been seen
riding side by side down the hill out of Ashford town.
They crossed the bridge over the river Stour at the
foot of the hill, rode on through Willesborough, and
then took the turn to the left, as the farmer thought
his new friend would like to see a little more of the
country than he would have done by keeping the
main road. So they turned and rode through the
pleasant village of Hinxhill, and paused on the hill
near the church to look eastward, where within a mile
or so the dark shades of ancient Bockhanger shut out
the view of Hatch beyond. The farmer stayed but
an instant to point out to the stranger that abode of
the mighty wizard of Bockhanger, so celebrated for
many a long year, and believed to be the most power-
ful magician in the world; and then resuming his
journey, he brought his companion to Plumpton
corner, and so through to Naccult, and, passing
Foreland Green, headed straight for Coombe Wood.
Coombe Wood was very different then from what it is'
now. It extended far over ground which has now for
a long time been cleared of trees and brought into
cultivation. It reached down to that which is now
Bircholt Wood towards the south-west, and was really
a small forest, in which the lawless men of Brabourne
Leese found frequent refuge from the pursuit of the
guardians of the law. But although Coombe Wood
was dense and difficult of passage in some parts, and


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMSE. 13
especially so in the part called "Coombe Rough," it
was easy to ride through the outskirts, and indeed
there were sundry tracks through even the thickest
part which were well known to Farmer Kellatt. The
worthy farmer and his companion, on entering the
wood from the Bircholt end, had no difficulty in
making their way over the mossy turf, beneath lofty
trees which stood at a sufficient distance apart to
allow of the passage of horsemen. As they pro-
ceeded, however, the trees stood more nearly together,
and after a few hundred yards they could only proceed
at a foot's space. They had been conversing hitherto
upon various subjects connected with the proceedings
of the day, the prospects of agriculture, and the beauty
of the country. Now, however, the old farmer
began to speak of the difficulty of finding the road
through Coombe Wood, and how that few save he
could with certainty strike the track after passing the
fringe of scattered trees which they were leaving
behind.
"It is a lonely place, sir," he said, "and one which
many folk would not care to travel."
"Is it so ?" carelessly asked the stranger.
"Ay, that it is," rejoined the other. "If robbers
were as plentiful here as they are said to be nigher
London town, 'twould hardly be safe to travel
here unarmed. But, barring the Brabourne Leese
poachers, we're not troubled terribly with them
gentry."
"I suppose," remarked the stranger, " there are no
houses near where we are now, and no labourers
handy."


14 QUEER FOLK. [i.
"You may well say that," returned the farmer;
"there is no house nigher than Coombe itself, which
is hard upon a mile as the path goes; and as' for
labourers—bless you! a man might bawl his tongue
out of his mouth before anyone could hear him where
we are now."
"So I suppose," answered the stranger, and sud-
denly drawing a pistol from his breast, he continued:
"This is about the place I have been looking for.
Hand over your watch and purse at once, or you are
a dead man!"
You may imagine Farmer Kellatt's astonishment
at this proceeding. Though no coward by nature, he
was so utterly taken aback by his companion's con-
duct, that for a few seconds he could only stare at
him in blank amazement. Then, as the truth dawned
upon him, he uttered a groan of mingled surprise and
disgust, and found vent for his disturbed feelings in
these words:—
"Lack-a-daisy me, man, why you beant never in
earnest?"
"Earnest enough, Farmer," returned the stranger
with a stern look, "as you will presently find. I am
Bill Martin of Hounslow Heath, and should think as
little of sending a brace of balls through your head as
of shooting a dog. Come, fork out!"
And, so saying, he pushed up close to the farmer,
and held his pistol in alarming proximity to his head.
Thus admonished, the worthy man, being only armed
with a slight hazel stick, which had served the pur-
poses of a whip, could make no resistance to the
demand urged upon him in such a forcible manner.


L] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 15
Moreover, he had heard both of Hounslow Heath
and of Bill Martin, the reputation of whose highway
robberies had reached even that remote district, and
he felt pretty certain that the robber was capable
of carrying out his threat. With a deep sigh, there-
fore, he plunged his hand into his pocket and brought
out a leather bag, well filled with the proceeds of
a sale that very day; then he lugged at the great
old-fashioned golden chain to which was attached
his watch, and was in the very act of handing them
over to his treacherous companion, when an incident
occurred which changed the whole order of events.
From behind an aged oak which stood hard by,
raising its gigantic head above its fellows, and spread-
ing out its mighty branches on all sides, there sud-
denly stepped forth a figure and stood before the
travellers. It was the figure of a man, tall and gaunt,
with long white beard falling over his breast, and
apparently clad entirely in garments made of the
skins of wild animals; in his right hand, which he
stretched forth as he stood, he held a curiously twisted
stick made of the holly-tree, and his left arm was
folded across his breast.
"Hold!" he cried in a commanding voice, and
then, after a moment's pause, continued—
"Who robs or slays in Brabourne Coombe,
Shall shortly meet a Felon's doom!"
Up to this moment, the sudden apparition had so
startled the highwayman as well as the farmer, that
neither of them had uttered a word. But the robber
being a man of courage, and seeing only one old man


--rr-y-r FOLK. Xf-
~g xoa^ne, and with a loud
— — Btmt of your humbug here.
T— rr very easily, I can tell
-.— —■=- rbe cash!"
rrs Tiew friend to assist
uz-^zz r■x- Ae probability that
^=- -i c Sabre any assistance
about to comply,
a^ad powerful, the
'nrds—
rt is mouth than
\: -j.^rdinary scenes
F.:g all the bushes
tl— issued an innu-
..■s^- i^%r rs^rcTcs. who, without
•r^oeri .irvtt tie astonished
----- .^r -sserahZe man who
. .t-= .--^res r~r is a£d stooped
^:-v--^--^rc fr-rax the ground.
»--t i-^srtng: aim. It was
> - r i ^rrg^hog which was
-V■ at? it was in a
-"^v■ -i--^: ir the face, and
•*: r -iitxi Itxy- as the blood
v ■_*. ■x-^isis rruKcted upon
"*^er *0:? atin so utterly
... ...v. cctn'usasL The hares and



!
I


16 QUEER FOLK. [i.
before him, now found his tongue, and with a loud
voice he cried—
"Come, come, old chap, none of your humbug here.
You won't interrupt Bill Martin very easily, I can tell
you. Now, Farmer, hand over the cash!"
Doubtful of the ability of his new friend to assist
him, or at all events alarmed by the probability that
the pistol might do its work before any assistance
could be effectual, the, farmer was about to comply,
when, in a voice singularly clear and powerful, the
venerable man pronounced these words—
"Sons of Coombe! 'gainst lawless might
Succour! and protect the right!"
Scarcely were the words out of his mouth than
there occurred one of the most extraordinary scenes
ever witnessed by mortal eyes. From all the bushes
and brakes around, there suddenly issued an innu-
merable quantity of hares and rabbits, who, without
a moment's hesitation, rushed upon the astonished
highwayman.
At .the same instant, the venerable man who
had summoned those creatures to his aid stooped
down, and, picking up something from the ground,
hurled it at his enemy with unerring aim. It was
nothing more or less than a hedgehog which was
thus thrown, and which, curled up as it was in a
prickly ball, struck the robber right in the face, and
elicited from him a roar of pain and fury as the blood
started from the numerous wounds inflicted upon
his unfortunate visage. Never was man so utterly
astonished, bewildered, and confused. The hares and



Is.


I


L] 'THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 17
rabbits jumped with supernatural strength upon his
saddle: the more he beat them off and killed them, as
he imagined, the more they crowded upon him; and
he found himself in great danger of being scratched
to death by their sharp claws, or smothered with the
heap of fur which overwhelmed him. His horse,
moreover, being clawed and scratched by the assault-
ing animals in a most disagreeable manner, became
perfectly unmanageable, and after rearing, kicking,
and plunging in a fashion which would have dis-
mounted any ordinary horseman, took the bit in his
mouth and fairly darted off homewards, shaking off
the hares and rabbits as he went. His unfortunate
rider was in imminent peril of being knocked off by
the overhanging branches, but managed nevertheless
to maintain his seat until he was clear of the wood.
Then, with bleeding face and hands, and his clothes
half torn off his back by the infuriated animals, he
was carried by his steed along the road they had
come before, and after vainly endeavouring to stop
the animal, found himself brought up again in the
Turk's Head yard, whence he had started with the
farmer.
The highwayman invented some story of having
been run away with, which satisfied the ostler who
took the horse; and having paid for the hire of the
animal, he slipped out of the yard with a determina-
tion to visit no more a neighbourhood where the very
hares and rabbits played the part of policemen.
Meanwhile Farmer Kellatt, during the strange con-
flict which had saved his watch and money, had stood
transfixed, with astonishment. Such a scene he had
C


18 QUEER FOLK. [i..
never witnessed before, nor could he have believed it
possible that such timid animals as hares and rabbits
would have so far overcome their fear of man as to
attack a mounted and armed highwayman in so
daring and resolute a manner. It was evident, how-
ever, that he himself had no cause for apprehension,
and indeed he could not but be grateful for their
timely interference on his behalf. He watched the
struggle with gaping mouth and eyes wide open; and
when he saw the famous Bill Martin fairly routed by
his little antagonists, he burst out into an exclama-
tion of mingled pleasure and surprise.
"Bless us all!" he shouted, "who'd ever have thought
of such a set-out as this! These here rabbits has eat
my turnips middling at times, but dash my wig if I
goes on a trapping on 'em after this. Well done, little
uns!" And the old man broke off in a fit of laughter.
Presently, however, remembering to whom he was
indebted for the aid which he had received, he turned
round with the intention of thanking the venerable
individual who had summoned his protectors. Lean-
ing carelessly against the tree from behind which he
had first stepped, the strange Being stood gazing upon
the scene before him. Just as the worthy farmer was
about to address him, he waved his hand in the air,
and said, in the same clear voice as before:—
"Sons of Coombe! your task complete,
To your woodland homes retreat!"
Scarcely had he uttered the words, when all the
rabbits and hares scuttled away as quickly as possible
into the recesses of the wood, until not one of them


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 19
was to be seen. The farmer, who had watched this
proceeding with interest and astonishment, now
thought it was high time to speak, and accordingly,
raising his hat in a respectful manner, thus addressed
the mysterious person before him :— ,
"I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you, sir, for what
you've done. I hadn't no thought of that chap turning
out such a notorious rascal; and if it hadn't been for
you, I expect I should have come off second best,
and lost my watch and money, if not my life into the
bargain. If there's anything I can do for you at any
time, you may be sure it shall be done, for John
Kellatt never forgets a kindness; and if ever you'll
look in at Coombe House, you'll be kindly welcome
surely, and Grace will be right glad to see a man
that has stood by her old father at a pinch!"
The worthy man spoke warmly and earnestly, and
was about to urge his horse nearer to the individual
towards whom he felt so naturally grateful, when the
latter waved him back with his hand, ajtid spoke as
follows:—
"Of gratitude I want no proof,
Tho' well I know thy kindly mood:
I cannot lodge 'neath mortal roof; ,
I may not eat of mortal food.
Yet know me for a ready friend
To worthy men of mortal race;
And nought but good I wish to send
To thee and to thy daughter Grace."
With these words the strange Being once more slowly
waved his hand, and disappeared behind the oak.
Farmer Kellatt paused for a few moments in great
astonishment, and then, being desirous still further to
c 2


ao QUEER FOLK. [i. •
'JT
press his hospitality upon one who had rendered him
such signal service, rode up to and round the tree,
loudly calling upon him not to be bashful, but to
come home with him and receive his daughter's
thanks for the good deed he had done to her father.
No answer, however, was returned ; and having looked
about right and left to no purpose, and called out again
and again without receiving any answer whatever,
the good man began to think it was no use trying
any longer. Having come to this conclusion, which
appeared to be the only one to which he could have
reasonably come under the peculiar circumstances
of the case, he struck into the homeward track and
made the best of his way towards the farmhouse
without longer delay. As he rode through the wood,
he pondered over the events which had just occurred,
with great confusion of intellect, marvelling greatly
who or what could be the individual who appeared to
be possessed of such extraordinary powers over the
animals of the wood, turning peaceful hares and
rabbits into martial warriors, and hurling hedgehogs,
like pebbles, at his foes with so true an aim. There
was something very curious in the whole business, and
as the worthy man thought over the surprise and
utter discomfiture of Bill Martin, and his hasty flight
from before his four-legged foes, he burst into a fit of
laughter enough to split his sides. He was answered
by a light and silvery laugh not far off, and in another
instant Grace appeared, coming on Kitty to meet her
father.
"What is it, Father dear?" she cried, as she rode
gaily forward towards him. "What merry jokes have
V


•A] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 21
you been having at Ashford, that your laughter
has lasted all the way home?" And she gave him a
loving smile as she asked the question.
"No Ashford jokes, daughter mine," responded
Farmer Kellatt, "but a real Coombe Wood joke, and,
for the matter of that, I doubt if there be another
wood in all Kent that has seen such a joke since the
days of the Wizard of Bockhanger." Then, in answer
to her eager inquiries, he told his daughter all that
had occurred, and how he had vainly tried to induce
his rescuer to come home and receive her thanks.
Grace listened with great attention; and when the
story reached the point of the hares' and rabbits'
onslaught upon the treacherous companion, I am
afraid she glanced at her old father with a doubtful
eye for one instant, as if thinking it just possible
that he might have had an extra flagon of ale at the
market dinner, and so have thought he saw a little
more than had been really the case. But if the
thought crossed her mind, she banished it at once,
with a blush that it should ever have come across her.
Her father was as sober as a judge, as indeed was
his ordinary habit, and he told her a tale which he
evidently believed to be undeniably true. Many
questions she asked him about the appearance and
precise words of the mysterious stranger, and at length
suggested to her father that this could be none
other than the Being who was so often spoken of by
the labouring folk as "the Warlock of Coonibc."
"And so it is! you may depend upon it, Grace;
you've hit the mark !" said Farmer Kellatt, and readily
adopted the views of his daughter upon the subject.


22 QUEER FOLK. [i.
From that time forth, then, the farmer became a
steady and devout believer in the existence and power
of the Warlock. I do not think that his faith in an
desire to please the Warlock carried him so far as to
induce him to entirely forego the pleasure of trapping
and destroying the rabbits. No farmer likes to see his
young wheat nibbled off; and although there are and
always have been some who make a mountain out of
a molehill in such matters, and, if they see one turnip
touched by a hare, declare that the place swarms
with such creatures, and that they will be shortly
ruined in consequence, yet it must be owned that a
good farmer has a right to complain if his crops are
really damaged by these animals. Farmer Kellatt,
therefore, having received no injunction from the
Warlock to spare the creatures, continued to pro-
tect himself as well as he was able, and did not
entirely abandon his favourite dish of rabbit-pie, well
seasoned with bacon, and washed down by deep
draughts of good home-brewed ale.
But Grace, thoughtful for her father's safety, and
mindful of the possible wants of his benefactor, con-
veyed sundry ducks and chickens, and occasionally
new-laid eggs and cream, to the mouth of the chalk-
pit where the Warlock was said to dwell, and judged
that by this means she was showing her gratitude in
the most appropriate manner. At first she used to
watch and see whether the presents were taken away,
but no one ever touched them while she was there.
Then she took to leaving them and going away for a
short time, when, upon her return, they had always
disappeared; and after this had continued for some
-v


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 23
little time, it happened that upon one memorable
occasion, when she had left some beautiful guinea-
fowls' eggs, enough to tempt any Warlock that ever
was born, she had the long-desired but scarcely
expected satisfaction of hearing a voice from within
the chalk-pit, which uttered in clear tones the words
following:—
"Kindly heart and open hand
Has the gentle maid, we know;
Yet 'tis vainly she hath planned
Gifts unneeded to bestow.
Maiden! he whose home is cleft
In the side of Brabourne Hill,
Takes from mortal hand no gift,
Asks no aid from mortal will.
But, should pain or sorrow fall
On thy pathway, gentle maid,
Do not thou delay to call
On thy friend for willing aid."
On hearing these words, Grace had no difficulty in
arriving at three conclusions: first, that the Warlock
certainly did live in the great chalk-pit; secondly,
that he was of a friendly disposition towards her and
her father; and, thirdly, that her ducks, chickens,
eggs, and cream, had probably been appropriated by
the foxes and other wild animals which frequented
the place, and had been quite lost upon the individual
for whom they had been intended. It was, however,
satisfactory to know that she had a powerful friend at
need in case any misfortune should fall upon her or
her family, and she could not be otherwise than
grateful for his promise of aid in the event of such an
emergency.
JT


24 QUEER FOLK. [l.
Being a girl of natural talents, and one who had
received a reasonably fair education according to the
fashion of the day, she felt at once the propriety of
making some reply to the speech which had just been
delivered to her, which she immediately did after the
following fashion :—
"Mighty Warlock of the hill,
Thanks for this thy promise kind.
Should I be oppressed or ill,
I shall venture to remind."
And having uttered these words, she made a profound
curtsey to the chalk-pit, which she meant for the
wizard, and was about to hurry home, when the
thought struck her that the dozen guinea-fowls' eggs
which she had deposited at the mouth of the cave
were too valuable to be thrown away, and that since
the Warlock did not want them, she might as well
take them home again. So she stepped lightly back
to the place, took up the eggs and replaced them in
the basket in which she had brought them, and was
turning to regain the road which led back to the farm,
when the same voice which had previously spoken
once more attracted her attention, and uttered these
words:—
'' From the hill the breeze I hail
(Morn and evening gazing down),
And I see across the vale
Westenhanger darkly frown.
Westenhanger far below
Ever frowns with gafh'ring gloom;
Thence comes danger, well I know,
Danger to the Child of Coombe ! '*


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 25
Grace listened with great alarm to this prophecy,
for such she supposed it to be, and all the more so
from her knowledge of the place of which the War-
lock spoke.
Westenhanger was in those days a castle of some
strength, possessed by the family of De Poynings,
the representative of which bore no very high cha-
racter among his neighbours, and was supposed to be
connected with a band, half robbers and half smug-
glers, who at that time infested the coast of Kent. He
had moreover committed several lawless deeds on
his own account, which had caused him to be more
dreaded than respected by the peaceful part of the
community; and to be told that danger was to be
apprehended from this particular person was some-
thing very alarming to the maiden of Coombe. She
stopped short, therefore, on hearing these words, and
answered in an imploring voice,—
"Oh, mighty Warlock, tell, I pray,
How I escape this danger may?
What can I do, and whither go,
And what the fear, and who the foe?"
She spoke in agitated tones, and anxiously expected
an answer. But no answer came.
The wind sighed mournfully through the trees, and
the leaves seemed to whisper to each other as they
rustled softly before the light breeze: the distant
bleating of the sheep, the lowing of the kine upon the
hills, and the occasional bark of the shepherd's dog,
alone fell upon her ears, but no tones of mortal voice
did she hear again. All was still and silent as the


26 QUEER FOLK. [1.
,«, * * !•■. ■■
grave; and after fruitless efforts to prevail upon the
mysterious inhabitant of the hill to speak again,
Grace slowly and somewhat sadly bent her steps
homeward, wondering what could be the danger likely
to come upon her from Westenhanger, and much '■
deploring the tiresome habit which warlocks and
witches, and such-like people, always have, of saying
just enough to puzzle and frighten a poor mortal,
stopping short of giving that full information which
might be really useful, and which it must be just as
easy for them to give as to withhold. However,
neither Grace nor anybody else of human birth or
origin could penetrate the reasons for the strange
behaviour of these curious creatures; and being quite
of that opinion herself, the maiden very wisely gave
up trying to do so. Still, it was very unpleasant to
have danger hanging over one, and its very vagueness
and uncertainty made it all the less agreeable. One
would almost rather have a good toothache and have
done with it, than the perpetual feeling that the
next bite one takes will probably bring the tooth-
ache with it.
This was very much Grace Kellatt's feeling for the
next few days after her visit to the chalk-pit on the
Hill. She went about her usual household duties in
a listless and timorous spirit, constantly feeling that
something was about to happen to her, but with a dim
consciousness that she could not avert it, and with no
certain idea as to when it would come or what it was.
There is nothing, however, which requires so little
waiting for as misfortune. In fact it rarely keeps a
person waiting for it at all, but generally comes long
V


I.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 27
before he is ready for it, and always a great while
before he wants it. So you will see that in Grace
Kellatt's case no long exercise of patience was
necessary before the prophecy of the Warlock was
fully ana decidedly proved true.
She had at first intended to tell her father nothing
about the matter, not wishing to cause the good old
man unnecessary alarm, but upon second thoughts she
decided that, without mentioning names, it would be
well to tell him that she had received warning that
some misfortune was likely to befall her, and a pro-
mise of help from the Warlock in the hour of danger.
Contrary to her expectations, however, the farmer
showed no great signs of anxiety, merely remarking
that the Warlock was a good sort of chap; but if any
more highwaymen were to try their little games on,
he would be ready for them next time, and give them
their gruel without the help of hares and rabbits.
So the two inhabitants of Coombe Farm made no
difference in their daily life in consequence of the
Warlock's prediction of danger, but everything went
on much as usual. And so it fell out that upon an
Ashford market-day very shortly afterwards, Farmer
Kellatt mounted his trusty nag, and rode off as was
his wont. It was a dullish morning, with a mist hang-
ing on the side of the hill, and the air full of moisture,
though no rain was falling.
When her father had left the place, Grace went out
and fed her poultry, and then paid a long visit to
the dairy, and occupied herself busily about various
household matters. It might be some two hours after-
wards that she was suddenly startled by the sound of


28 QUEER FOLK. [1.
horses' feet, and, hurrying to the window of the front
room, beheld with surprise and alarm a dozen or
more mounted men riding from Coombe Lane into
the farm-yard. Fast they came on, and rode up to
the house before they drew rein.
Now, in front of the house was a small green patch
of grass, scarcely big enough to be dignified by the
name of a lawn, whilst behind was a small orchard in
which Grace used to coop out her young chickens, and
at the further side of which was a small pond, mightily
frequented and beloved by the ducklings of the farm.
So, when the new-comers rode up, they separated at
once, some riding in front and others into the orchard,
so that the house was surrounded by them.
He who was evidently their leader was a tall,
swarthy man, riding a strong black horse, which he
reined up immediately opposite the front door, and
shouted in a loud voice—
"Ho! you within there! Come out and speak with
the Lord of Wcstenhanger!"
Grace's blood ran cold as she heard these words.
This, then, was the foe of whom the Warlock had
spoken, and the danger which he had foretold was
already come upon her. She was convinced that as
yet she had not been seen by the strangers, and would
willingly have remained hidden from their observa-
tion. This, however, was scarcely possible, as there was
no doubt that, if unanswered, they would not scruple
to break into the house before she could find a place
of concealment. Nor had she long time for hesitation,
for, after a short pause, the leader of the horsemen
broke out into a ringing laugh, and shouted again—
•


L] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 29
"Ho! there! Answer my summons forthwith,
an ye would not have house and homestead levelled
to the ground. Draw back bolts, and open doors at
once
Thus admonished for the second time, Grace braced
her nerves to the task before her, and was about to
approach the window, when that of the room above
was thrown open, and she heard her old nurse, Dame
Revel, begin to expostulate with the speaker.
Now Dame Revel was a woman of a certain age,
what rude people might in fact have called an old
woman, if there ever could be such a thing, and a
faithful creature she was into the bargain. Her
husband was bailiff to Farmer Kellatt; that is to say,
he looked after the other men, and was a kind of
head labourer, much trusted by his employer.
Dame Revel loved Grace as the apple of her eye,
and was as proud of her as could be; which was not
wonderful, and is often to be observed in old nurses'in
their feelings towards the children to whom they have
stood in that special relationship. Moreover, although
Grace really managed the household, the good old
Dame fancied that she had a good deal to do with
the management thereof, and was as much of a com-
panion as a servant to her young mistress. So, when
she saw the horsemen ride in, and heard the summons
of their leader, Dame Revel, having no fear of possible
consequences to herself, threw up the window boldly,
and proceeded to answer the intruder.
"Why, lawky me, sir," she said in a shrill voice,
"and who be you a bellowing and a bullowing in this
here way? The master beant at home, he beant,


30 QUEER FOLK. [i.
nor won't be for this long time, and there ain't no call
for making such a hullabaloo!"
At this reply to his summons the rider laughed
loudly again.
"Open doors, I say, you old hag,",he shouted, "or
I'll boil you in your own caldron, you witch!"
But the old woman was more angered than
frightened by his threats.
"Drat your imperence !" she cried. "What be I to
open my master's doors for to such as you?" and
would doubtless have proceeded to further statements
of her opinions of his proceedings, but that at the
same moment two of the horsemen rode back out of
the orchard, dragging with them by the scruff of the
neck no less a person than old Revel, whom they had
captured as he was hurrying to the house by the back
way to see what was the matter. As soon as this
sight met her eyes, the old woman changed her tone
directly, and addressed her husband's captors in a
voice of mingled rage and entreaty.
"Let my old man go, you villains!" she shrieked.
"Shame on you to treat a man of his years so scur-
vily! Let him go, I say!"
"What, ho!" shouted the leader of the horsemen
as he heard these words. "An the doors be not
opened at once, hang me that old rascal on the first
apple-tree in the orchard, and batter me in the doors
to the tune of his dying groans!"
The men to whom he addressed this observation
proceeded instantly to act as though they were about
to execute the cruel command, and in a couple of
minutes old Revel would have been dangling from the


i,]'' 7W.£ WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 31
'■-*.■■■■. .; •• * ••
tree, had not the door suddenly been thrown open by
Grace herself, who stood upon the threshold, blushing
with mingled terror and indignation, in which, how-
ever, the latter feeling greatly predominated.
"Sirs, sirs," she cried, in a voice tremulous with
agitation, "why would ye harm the old man, and
what is your will that ye thus invade a peaceful
household?"
The horseman before the door made a low bow as
the maiden uttered these words.
"Fair damsel," he replied, "we would do no harm
to anyone, but necessity has its laws. Mouths must
be fed, and man must live: wherefore, my castle of
Westenhanger being fairly out of provisions of all
kinds, I come to capture such supplies as I need with
my bow and my spear. . Forward, men! but spare
the old man. When Beauty asks, Valour must
comply!"
So saying, he lightly leaped from his horse and
entered the house, accompanied by several of his
followers, whilst others spread themselves about
through the farmyard and outbuilding^ picking up
ducksr geese, hens, and whatever portable articles of
food they could find. The two men who had got
hold of poor Revel, seeing that the time for plunder
had arrived, gave up all thoughts of hanging him, but
could not forbear tossing him into the pond at the
other side of the orchard, where they gave him such a
ducking that he was never quite free from rheumatism
for the rest of his life. Then they joined their com-
panions, and in an incredibly short space of time the
house and premises were thoroughly ransacked, and


32 QUEER FOLK. [i.
Grace's poultry-yard deprived of all its glory. The
maiden herself, having thrown open the doors in order
to save the life of her father's faithful servant, had
hastily retreated to her room on hearing the speech of
the Lord of Westenhanger. Not long, however, was
she left unmolested. As she sat trembling with fear
and anger, and listening to the shouts and laughter of
the marauders, her door was suddenly burst open, and
their leader entered the apartment.
"Come, pretty one," he exclaimed, "we find scarce
such booty as we had hoped for, but the greatest
treasure of all must not be left behind. Wilt fly
to Westenhanger and cheer our dull castle with thy
brightness?"
"Leave me, sir," cried Grace in great affright.
"An thou beest of gentle blood, be content with the
mischief thou hast already done an old man who never
harmed thee or thine, and take hence thy lawless
troop without more delay!"
"That will I, truly," replied the intruder; "but
it were folly to steal the silver and leave the gold
behind. Thou art my prize, girl; the lawful captive
of my enterprise, and worth a mighty ransom to boot.
Come, then, sweetheart."
And in spite of Grace's screams and struggles, he
seized her in his arms as though she had been a baby,
carried her downstairs, and, calling for his horse, he
mounted and rode out of the yard at the head of his
men, bearing the now senseless maiden before him on
his saddle-bow.
Such cattle as they could find about the homestead
the lawless troop drove before them down Coombe


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 33
Lane; and then heading towards Smeeth, they took
the first turning to the left, and rode off through the
winding lanes and back roads in the direction of their
master's stronghold.
On that day it so happened that Farmer Kellatt
had been fortunate in his market business, and had no
reason to delay his return home. In fact, since his
adventure with Bill Martin, his account of which was
received with a certain amount of incredulity by many
of his boon companions, he had been made the subject
of so many jokes that he had fought rather shy of
joining the market dinner. On this particular day,
therefore, he had enjoyed a quiet beef-steak and pint
of ale by himself (two things which an honest man
with a good digestion will do well to enjoy whenever
a favourable opportunity presents itself), and had set
off somewhat earlier than usual on his homeward ride.
It was a beautiful autumn afternoon, the trees not
having yet begun to lose their summer foliage, but
the colour of the latter having just commenced its
change from green to that golden brown which so
charms the eye of the lover of nature at this season
of the year.
You may imagine how beautiful Coombe Wood
appeared, with its noble outspreading oaks, its grand
old beeches, and its ancient elm and ash trees thickly
interspersed; a dense mass of rich colouring, varying
in beauty at each point from which the traveller
stopped to gaze upon it, but beautiful ever. So
thought Farmer Kellatt as he rode slowly through
the wood ; and, though not a man of a romantic turn of
mind, he felt a certain sensation of pleasure in his heart
D


34 QUEER FOLK. [i.
at the thought that his lot was cast in so lovely a
place. Very different from pleasure, however, was
the sensation which he presently experienced, as he
rode out of the wood and approached his homestead.
He had been somewhat surprised that no Grace had
appeared to welcome him home ere he emerged from
the trees, for she was in the habit of riding out to meet
him, and on this tempting afternoon he had made
sure she would have done so. However, some house-
hold duty might have detained her, or something
might have occurred to induce her to ride in another
direction, so he thought little of it until he got close
to the farmyard. Then, a single glance round told
the farmer that something was amiss. The gates were
all open—only one or two miserable calves were to
be seen in the yard wherein he had left a fair lot of
cattle in the morning—fences were thrown down
here and there; and moreover he could see, by the
condition of the road as he crossed the lane to reach
the yard, that a number of horses had been lately
there.
Farmer Kellatt drew rein, and stood for one moment
aghast at the spectacle before him. Then he burst
into a groan which came from the very bottom of his
heart, and pressed forward into the yard and up to
the front door.
"Grace !" he called in heart-rending tones; "Grace!
my darling! Grace, speak to your old father."
He strained his ears to listen, and fancied that a
faint gurgling sound reached him as of one trying to
scream, but being prevented from doing so by a bad
sore throat. Leaping from his horse, he rushed into


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 35
the house, which he found all in confusion, and passing
hastily into the kitchen, soon discovered whence the
sound had proceeded. Poor old Dame Revel and the
two servant wenches who were under her rule and
guidance were sitting each fast tied to a kitchen chair,
and carefully gagged to prevent their making more
noise than the robbers might have found agreeable.
In fact, poor old Dame Revel had a dirty stocking
stuffed into her mouth, after such a fashion that it
was a mercy she was not choked altogether, and she
always declared that her voice was never the same
again. I don't know how that may have been, but I
believe it was always a shrill voice when at its best,
and I have been told that the maids said they thought
it was much better when the stocking was in her
mouth than either before or after. Such, however,
was the sad condition in which Farmer Kellatt found
his servants, from which he released them as speedily
as possible, and eagerly asked tidings of his daughter.
Alas! they had no good news to tell. All they knew
was that the house had been searched and sacked from
top to bottom, that they themselves had been treated
as I have described, and that, as Dame Revel described
it, "the whole place had been turned upside down."
But as to what had become of Grace they could not
positively say, for, being tied fast in the kitchen, they
were naturally unable to see what went on in the front
of the house. They racked the old man's heart, how-
ever, by declaring that they had heard Miss Grace
scream, and from some words which the leader of the
robber party had let fall, they fancied that he had
intended to carry her off. All doubt on the subject,
D 2


36 QUEER FOLK. [I.
however, was soon removed by the account of old
Revel, whom his captors, after giving him a taste of
the pond, had thrust, dripping wet, into the hen-house,
which they had robbed of its proper inhabitants, and
turned the key upon him. But the hen-house stood
on the side of the orchard nearest the lane, and
through the chinks in the boards of which it was built
the old man had seen the party ride away, carrying
his master's daughter with them as has been described.
Thus assured of the fate which had befallen his darling
Grace, Farmer Kellatt's state of mind may be better
imagined than described. At first he tore his hair
and ran up and down like a madman, using language
more like that which is popularly (though perhaps
erroneously) attributed to "a trooper" than that
usually employed by a respectable farmer. Then he
rushed to the barn, the hen-house, the bullock lodges,
and every outhouse on the premises, in the vain hope
that there might still be some mistake, and his beloved
child might be found hidden in some one of them.
Alas! his search was vain, and only resulted in ascer-
taining that most of the live stock in the homestead
had been carried off as well as his daughter, which was
a circumstance ill calculated to diminish his grief in
the smallest degree. Then he threw himself down
on the ground in utter despair, which, as the spot
which he selected for this performance was the middle
of the cow-yard, improved his personal appearance no
more than it removed the cause of his sorrow. Pre-
sently he arose, and ran back again, as one half
frantic, into the house, every room of which he entered,
calling wildly for his Grace; but, as might have been


1.J THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 37
expected, with no result. He stopped at last in
the front room, where he and his daughter had
passed so many hours together. There stood the
favourite chair on which she used to sit, hard by was
the harpsichord she had loved to play—everything
spoke of her presence; and on the window-sill lay a
handkerchief which she often wore round her neck,
and which she had probably had on that very morning.
The old man raised it to his lips and kissed it tenderly.
"My darling, my darling," he said, "where are you,
and what have they done to you?" And covering
his face with his hands, he burst into tears, and, drop-
ping into a large arm-chair which stood by, sobbed as
if his heart would break.
From this condition he was roused by Dame Revel,
who knew well enough that there is nothing so foolish
as to give way to despair if one is in trouble. Most
troubles which people have to endure in this life are
such as will grow less heavy and become more easy
to bear if they are faced with a resolute will and a
firm determination to overcome them; and even if they
seem at some time or other to be of such a nature as
quite to overwhelm one, yet it is always best to keep
up a brave heart against them, for to give way to
despair shows not only a weak and feeble disposition,
but is proof of a want of faith in Him in whose hands
are the decrees of life and death, and who never sends
His creatures troubles greater than they can bear, if
they seek strength from Him to do so. All this
Dame Revel knew very well, and she determined not
to let her dear old master sit there doing nothing
but sob and groan, when the occasion was one for


38 QUEER FOLK. [r.
earnest and instant action. So she went up to him
and gave him a little push on the shoulder, such as
she deemed the privilege of her long service would
render excusable.
"Deary me, master," she then proceeded to say,
"don't ye sit there crying and sobbing like a calf
that's lost its mother! Don't ye, now, there's a dear
good man! Sure-ly there's law and justice in Eng-
land yet, and these here old rogues .a'nt agoing
to do just as they pleases, and rob and harry like
this here, with never no one not to say nothing
to 'em. Jump up, master, and let's do summut to
get Miss Grace back! T'aint no account sitting
there, not no-ways!"
The old farmer felt the full force of these remarks
but the blow had been so severe and so unexpected
that as yet he could hardly rally from it. He only
groaned, therefore, in reply, and the old woman felt
somewhat baffled in her praiseworthy attempt to rouse
him to action. Being, however, of a dauntless dis-
position, she renewed the attack.
"Do ye get up, now, master. A'nt there nothing
to be done? A'nt you got no one as could help ye if
you was to go and ask? Sure-ly the whole country
would help Miss Grace, if they only know'd she was in
trouble! Why, the very dumb beasts would go for
to help Miss Grace!"
These words had the very effect which Dame Revel
would have wished to produce, although she uttered
them with no idea that such would be the result.
The mention of the " dumb beasts " recalled to Farmer
Kellatt's mind his adventure with Bill Martin, and the


I.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 39
timely interference of the hares and rabbits. This train
of thought naturally led him to think of the mysterious
individual at whose bidding these animals had come
to his assistance, and he immediately recollected the
promise of aid in the hour of danger which had been
made by this same Being to his beloved daughter. If
there was any reliance to be placed on such a promise,
now was the time to put it to the test, for certainly
Grace had never before stood in such need of aid.
As he thought over the matter, a cruel doubt of the
Warlock's power stole over the farmer's mind. Power
he had, no doubt, but Bill Martin and the Lord of
Westenhanger were two widely different persons, and
it did hot by any means follow that he who could so
easily master the one would be able to overcome the
other. The attempt, however, might be made, and in
fact, circumstanced as he was, the old man felt that it
would be worse than folly to neglect to make it. So
the good dame had hardly finished speaking when he
started to his feet so suddenly that she jumped back,
caught her feet in the hearthrug, and tumbled back-
wards on the floor.
"I'll try it!" shouted the farmer. "I'll do it! By
Jove, I will!"
"Do it!" cried the old woman as she rose, breathless
and dusty from the floor; "do it! and a pretty thing
to do, knocking down an old woman that has lived
in your service these forty years come Michaelmas.
Drat the man !—what's come to him now?"
Farmer Kellatt took no more notice of this speech
than if it had never been made, and was in fact so
much absorbed in his own reflections that he had never


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 4«
what mischief had really,been done and what losses
their master had sustained.
Meanwhile Farmer Kellatt proceeded towards the
hill-side with gigantic strides, filled with anxiety as to
the result of the application which he was about to
make, but determined to make it forthwith, and, if
need should be, to brave any and every danger in
order to recover his lost darling. At the pace at
which the old man went, he soon found himself at the
farther end of the large Barn-field, and stepped through
the gate into the road from Wye to Stowting, which
skirted the bottom of the hill. Immediately before
him, not fifty yards distant, was the mouth of the
great chalk-pit, which, under ordinary circumstances,
the farmer, and indeed anyone who knew the place
and had heard of its wondrous occupant, would have
approached with fear and hesitation. But the circum-
stances were not ordinary at this time, and no fear had
Farmer'Kellatt when the interests, nay, perchance the
very life, of the being whom he loved best in the whole
world was at stake. Onward, therefore, he strode,
across the road and on to the grass hill, and forward to
the very mouth of the chalk-pit, before he dreamed of
coming to a halt. Then he stopped short, and for the
first time bethought him of what might be the proper
method to invoke the Warlock. Grace had told him
that the mighty Being spoke in verse, and in verse he
doubtless ought to be addressed. Farmer Kellatt,
however, was but a poor hand at versifying, and knew
but little of such matters. The business, all the same,
could not be delayed, and the urgency of the occasion
probably quickened his inventive powers. But the only


42 QUEER FOLK. [i.
rhyme which came into his head at that moment was
the favourite old song he had so often sung at the
farmers' dinners, and his only chance of rhyming was
to rhyme to the old tune. So after a moment's
thought he took off his hat, rubbed his warm head
with a red silk handkerchief he carried about him,
and, as well as the breathlessness induced by his fast
walking would permit, broke out into the following
words, to the tune of "Little Dun'ee " :—
"Farmer of Brabourne Coombe I be,
In terrible trouble, as you may see;
For I have a daughter whose name it is Grace,
The pride of the farm with her lovely face.
With my loddy, toddy, tol de rol loddy ti do.
"Now Westenhanger's haughty lord
Has carried her off without never a word;
And hither come I, sir, alas and alack;
To beg for your succour in getting her back.
With my loddy, toddy," &c. &c.
Having got through these two verses, which fully
expressed both the loss which he had sustained and
his object in repairing to the Warlock's cave, the
worthy farmer mopped his head once more and stood,
hat in hand, eagerly awaiting the result. Nor had he
long to wait. Clear and loud came an answer back,
in the same voice as that which Farmer Kellatt had
heard and welcomed in his Coombe Wood adventure:—
"Well hast thou done, good man and true,
In seeking hence the proffered aid,
And deeply they the deed shall rue
Who've dared to touch the gentle maid.
For aid thou shalt not vainly call
On those who can that aid bestow;
And e'er mischance thy child befall,
Blood shall be spilt, and heads lie low.


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 43
Hence! farmer! haste, without delay,
To Mersham haste, and Brabourne Leese,
To Smeeth and Sellinge wend thy way,
And rouse the folk with words like these :—
'The Robber Baron in his den
Doth Grace of Ccombe a captive hold;
Rouse, Commoners of Kent, like men,
And show yourselves as lions bold.
Take each his staff, and cross-bow strong,
With shafts to send in hour of need;
Nor doubt that to assault the Wrong,
The Man of Ccombe your ranks will lead 1'"
The farmer listened to these words with some sur-
prise, and at their conclusion could not help feeling
some doubt steal over him as to the efficacy of the
step which he was desired to take. True it was that
he was well liked and respected in the neighbourhood,
and that Grace was a general favourite, but it might
well be doubted whether his influence or her popu-
larity would be sufficient to induce the rustic popula-
tion of the neighbouring villages to turn out to battle
against so powerful a man as the Lord of Westen-
hanger, especially as the chances of overcoming him
in his very stronghold would be exceedingly small.
Therefore it was hardly surprising that Farmer Kellatt
hesitated for a moment before setting forth on that
which really appeared to him to be likely to turn out
a fruitless errand. But, remembering how much was
at stake, and moreover bearing in mind the wonderful
power which the Warlock had previously exhibited,
he rapidly came to the resolution that he had better
follow the advice which he had received. He was the
more confirmed in this determination by the thought
that if he did not do as he was told, there was really


44 QUEER FOLK. [l
nothing else that he could do against so powerful a
person as him who had carried off his daughter; and if
he had any lingering doubt upon the subject, it was
speedily removed by the sound of the same voice
repeating emphatically the following words :—
"He who seeks from magic art
Help he cannot gain without;
Let him hear—and then depart—
Haste is golden—Ruin, doubt."
"Thank ye kindly, worshipful sir!" cried the farmer
as these words reached his ears, forgetting for the
moment the supposed necessity of addressing his
mysterious friend in rhyme ; and turning on his heel,
he strode back to the farm quite as quickly as he had
come, or, to speak the truth, rather more so, seeing
that it was downhill all the way, which, to ordinary
persons, especially after a certain age, is easier travel-
ling than when the road lies uphill.
Arrived at the farm, the worthy man ordered out
the same good nag on which he had ridden from
Ashford, for the Westenhanger thieves had left him no
other in the stables, and, telling old Revel and his
wife not to expect him again until they saw him, rode
off to Brabourne Leese. There was in those days but
a small and scattered population upon the Leese,
composed mostly of persons bearing but an indifferent
character as regarded poaching the deer of the forest,
and anything else which they could lay their hands
on. As he rode up to the common, upon which stood
the few straggling huts which formed the dwellings of
these people, Farmer Kellatt turned over in his mind
what precise words he should use to arouse them to


l] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 45
take up his cause, and greatly feared that they might
be scattered about so as to entail some loss of time
before he could collect them. But to his great
astonishment, he found the whole number of able-
bodied men, some twenty or more, surrounded by the
women and boys of the hamlet, all gathered together
before their huts, eagerly discussing some event or
other which had evidently disturbed the usual tran-
quillity of the place. Immediately on his arrival they
rushed eagerly up to the farmer and in a few words
explained the mystery. Not half an hour before, to
their very great astonishment, a man on a coal-black
steed, of enormous power and swiftness, had ridden
through the Leese, and in an incredibly short space
of time had left at each door a scroll of parchment
on which was inscribed in large red letters—
"Those who would shun the coward's fate,
Brave, as their Saxon sires have been,
To-morrow at the hour of eight
Together meet at New Inn Green.
Let every true-bom man of Kent
To rescue Grace of Coombe be bent!
And fear ye not, for in your need
The Man of Coombe your ranks will lead."
This event had of course mightily excited the
people, and when they had gathered from the farmer the
whole history of the proceedings which had recently
taken place, they were filled with indignation against
the lawless Baron of Westenhanger, and swore
solemnly to be at the trysting-place at the appointed
hour, and advance to the rescue of the captured
maiden.
Farmer Kellatt needed not to remain long upon


46 QUEER FOLK.
Brabourne Leese: forward he spurred his good steed
to the parish of Smeeth, passing along the Ridgway
and skirting Barracks Wood and Hatch Park, and so
down Stock Lane, away by Bower Farm to Mersham
Street, and forward still further to the Forstall. But
everywhere he found that the same horseman had
preceded him, and that he had little more to do than
to explain the particulars of the case to men who
were already gathered together and prepared for
action, though they scarcely knew why or wherefore.
So before dark the good farmer found that the country
was thoroughly aroused, and that messengers had
been despatched southwards to Bilsington, Bonington,
Orleston, and the men of Newchurch, westwards to
Kingsnorth, Sevington, and Willesboro', eastwards
to Aldington and Sellinge, and northwards to
Stowting, Hastingleigh, and Elmsted. Little doubt,
therefore, could there be that by the next morning at
eight o'clock there would be such a gathering as had
not been seen in that part of the world for many a
long day. So Tuesday night set in, and Farmer
Kellatt, tired out with his day's exertions, found
lodging at the house of a neighbour who occupied a
holding called the Bank Farm, in the parish of
Aldington. To this good man he unfolded his woes,
and in his house he slept, in spite of all his troubles,
as soundly as his best friends could wish. The first
rays of the sun, however, drove sleep from the anxious
father's eyes, and both he and his host were up and
about betimes. Having partaken of a hearty break-
fast with an appetite which never failed him, Farmer
Kellatt walked out into the field in front of his friend's


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 47
house, and ascended a small knoll on which grew a
cluster of poplars. From this point an extensive and
beautiful view could be commanded. Immediately
before him, facing southwards, lay the whole extent
of Romney Marsh, from Dungeness on the south-west
to Hythe on the east, whilst beyond the Marsh glittered
the blue waters of the Channel. Casting his eye to
the left, far in the distance the white cliffs above Dover
stood out in bold relief, from which the gazer brought
his eye back to Beachboro' summer-house, that beacon
well known to the mariners of the coast, and the
pleasant country around Saltwood Castle and the
rising village of Cheriton. Then glancing to the right,
the great woods of Bilsington and Ruckinge stretched
away to the south-west, and Tenterden, Hastings, and
the distant Sussex hills came into view beyond ; whilst
if he turned from the Marsh, the fine old tower of
Ashford Church, the hanging woods of Eastwell Park,
the rich meadows of the upland vale between the
Marsh and Hatch Park, the tall rookery of Scott's
Hall, the far-off elms of Horton Park, all flanked by
the great chalk-hills, the Backbone of Kent, stretching
from point to point, met his eye.
On that morning, however, the worthy farmer had
neither time nor inclination to stand gazing on the
magnificent landscape before him. It was not an
ordinary view upon which he looked, and it was one
upon which a lover of nature might have looked long
and still stayed to look again. But, even had he been
otherwise forgetful of the duty which lay immediately
before him, there was something in that very view
which would have recalled it to the farmer's mind.
X


48 QUEER FOLK. [i.
On every side he beheld a movement going on in the
wide extent of country over which he looked. Small
black dots scattered over the face of the map before
him marked the hurrying together of men from every
quarter. Even the thinly populated district of Rom-
ney Marsh seemed thoroughly aroused, and although
at that date, and indeed for a very long time after-
wards, extending down to very modern times in-
deed, its roads were notoriously bad, they presented
quite an animated appearance, small knots of men
making their way across them in every direction, but
all pointing to the different ascents up the hill from the
Marsh. The increasing light warned Farmer Kellatt
that he had no time to lose if he would be punctual
at the place of meeting. Calling for his horse, there-
fore, he mounted and made the best of his way back
to Coombe, where he summoned his men, and being
assisted by several of his neighbours, found himself in
a condition to proceed towards New Inn Green with
some forty companions. True it is that they were in-
differently armed. Some few had cross-bows, some
only sharpened sticks, and a few scythes were to be
seen amongst them. But anyone who had viewed the
little band, even at that day, would have thought it
but scantily provided with the means of assailing a
stronghold or capturing a fortified castle. Farmer
Kellatt himself carried a small axe in his hand, which
was the only serviceable weapon he could lay hands
on. He certainly possessed a sword, but it was of a
size so unwieldy as to be perfectly useless, and after
hesitating for some time between his favourite spud
for thistle destruction and the above-mentioned axe,


I.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 49
he wisely chose the latter, and so sallied forth at the
head of his friends and labourers. They marched
down Coombe Lane, left Brabourne Leese on their
right, and, skirting Scott's Hall, came into the road
by Sellinge Church. By this time they had already
been joined by divers small bodies of men, and a still
larger number was now added to their band, which kept
gathering strength as it marched down the road to
New Inn Green.
Here, before eight o'clock, was assembled as strange
a gathering of warriors as ever yet went forth to war.
Their arms, their clothing, their whole appearance,
would have disgusted a soldier of the present time,
and their cause would probably have appeared to him
hopeless. But yet the right stuff was there—stout
hearts, tough sinews, iron frames, and a dogged
determination to succeed or perish. New Inn Green
was not then what it is now, and as there was no inn
whatever in the place, it must have been named by
some one gifted with the spirit of prophecy. At the
time of which I write it was only a green or common
of no very large extent, on the confines of the property
of the Lords of Westenhanger and about half a mile
from their fortress. Upon this green the intended
rescuers of Grace Kellatt were assembled, and as the
good farmer and his friends rode up, a loud shout of
welcome greeted their arrival. Nor was this at all
extraordinary. Whatever might have been the agency
by which the throng of armed rustics had been sum-
moned, it soon appeared that all of them had been
informed of the cause in which their services were
required, and the presence of the father of the maiden
E


5o QUEER FOLK. [i.
who had been so boldly carried off raised their en-
thusiasm to its highest pitch. Moreover, the mystic
words which had been pronounced by the strange
messenger who had borne the summons to the effect
that the "Man of Coombe" would be there to lead
their ranks, had been interpreted by the simple
peasants to signify that the injured father would him-
self lead them to the attack, and without considering
the probability of such an event, or the fitness of the
worthy farmer for the task, they at once recognized
his right to be foremost in the attempt to rescue his
daughter and were quite willing to follow him. So
they gave him a good cheer as he rode on to the
green, and crowded round him with friendly assur-
ances of sympathy and support.
But when Farmer Kellatt found that he was ex-
pected to lead the band forward to the attack, he was
sore bestead, for military skill he had none, and knew
far more of the implements of husbandry than those
of war. In this emergency, however, his good common
sense did not desert him, and he felt at once that
there were two courses open before him, if, as was his
full intention, he proceeded to attempt the enterprise
upon which he and his friends had met together. One
plan was to wait a certain time longer until his already
large band should be increased by the arrival of other
friends, and then to surround the Castle of Westen-
hanger, keeping at a respectful distance, and starve
out its garrison by vigilantly watching every point so
that no supplies might be brought in. This plan had
certain advantages, and if successful would probably
be attended with less risk to life and limb than a more


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 51
bold attack upon the castle. But it had also great
and serious drawbacks. A resolute charge of even a
small body of men-at-arms might break the line of the
rustic army at any moment, and the foe might escape;
moreover, it was impossible to tell what supplies the
robber Baron might have within his walls, and the good
farmer knew to his cost that there were a certain
quantity of sheep and cattle there which should by
rights be quietly fitting for the market in his own
homestead. Besides, there would be considerable
delay if this plan were adopted, during which he dared
not think how his Grace would be treated, especially
if her captors should be enraged by the attack upon
their stronghold. This delay, moreover, might, and
probably would, test the enthusiasm of his army, and
whilst some of them would be likely to fall away and
return home, it was possible that succour might come
to the Lord of Westenhanger from some of his neigh-
bours, and thus cause the failure of the enterprise
altogether. The arguments, therefore, against this
plan appeared so greatly to preponderate, that Far-
mer Kellatt had but little difficulty in making up his
mind that an immediate advance and attack upon
the castle were by far the best means to adopt. His
friends were full of ardour and enthusiasm ; the enemy
was very probably unprepared; and if, as he hoped,
they should be taken by surprise, the whole business
might be successfully accomplished within a very short
time. But he was quite at a loss how to direct the
advance, and would probably have remained so had
he been left to his own unassisted wits.
It happened, however, that among the contingent
E 2


52 QUEER FOLK.
which had arrived from Mersham was one Bridger, a
noted sportsman, and one who bore the reputation of
having, at some time or other of his life, "served in the
wars." To this man the good farmer very wisely
turned for advice, and asked his opinion as to the best
method of proceeding. Bridger had no difficulty in
advising that, as a first step, something like order
should be established in the ranks of the army, and
this he proposed to effect by separating the men in
some sort according to the weapons they carried.
Thus the few archers who carried the old English
long-bow were told off together, the far larger number
of cross-bow men were ranged in one body, whilst
those who were armed with swords and iron-tipped
stakes formed a third detachment, and the rustics who
had brought a variety of strange weapons, from scythes
down to sticks, were again placed by themselves.
There were only some thirty horsemen among the
whole number, and these were not likely to be of
much service in an assault upon a fortified place, but
they were marshalled on one side with Farmer Kellatt
at their head, and were looked upon with great respect
by the rest of the army. These preparations having
been effected with as much expedition as possible,
Bridger informed Farmer Kellatt that, upon such an
occasion as the present, it would be according to all
the recognized rules of warfare if he addressed a few
inspiriting words to the soldiers whom he was about
to lead to victory, and earnestly exhorted him to do so.
This rather flabbergasted the worthy old man, but
being much pressed by his lieutenant, he took off his
hat, and said in a loud voice to those around him :—


i.] . THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 53
"Now, chaps, this here Norman robber has stolen
my Grace. If we don't get her back again, no man's
pet lamb will henceforth be safe from this wolf. I
beant much of a speaker, but an old man's blessing
rest upon all that have come to help me in this cause,
and let's go at it with a will."
The peasants raised a hearty cheer as the old
farmer spoke, and showed all eagerness to advance
upon the foe.
Meanwhile the owner of Westenhanger, little dream-
ing of the storm that was about to burst upon him,
had celebrated the evening of his successful foray by a
jovial carouse with his friends and retainers. Poor
Grace had been committed to the care of some female
attendants, and no thoughts save those of wine and
wassail reigned within the castle.
The De Poynings family had, as a rule, been just
and wise men, bearing a high character in the county
and being much respected by their neighbours of all
classes. Latterly, however, they had fallen off from
the high standard of their ancient race, and the
present Baron had little to recommend him save per-
sonal bravery. Reckless, profligate, and extravagant,
he passed an idle and useless existence, feared by his
vassals, disliked by his neighbours, and respected by
no man. His alliance with the smugglers of the coast
was well known, and as his once large patrimony had
been greatly squandered by his immoderate habits of
life, he was accustomed to levy black-mail after the
fashion we have witnessed. His raid upon Brabourne
Coombe had furnished him with supplies which would
keep his kitchen fire going for some little time, and he ~r


5^ QUEER FOLK. [i.
had no other idea than that of living at his ease while
such was the case, probably cherishing the intention
of extorting a handsome additional supply of food by
way of ransom for Grace, whenever his larder should
again be empty.
The Baron had slept heavily after the debauch of
the previous day, when he was aroused upon that
Wednesday morning by the tidings of the gathering
on New Inn Green. Incredulous at first that it could
really be the intention of a half-armed and undisci-
plined rabble to attack his castle, he no sooner collected
from the reports brought in by sundry of his retainers,
who had mixed with the peasants and heard their
conversation, that such was really their intention, than
he roused himself from his drowsy condition and sum-
moned his confidential steward to his presence.
This man, who was both butler and house-steward,
rejoiced in the pleasant name of Bundlebutts, and
when sober was an invaluable assistant to his master
in all his schemes. Sobriety, however, was not his
strong point, and there were moments, and those not
unfrequent, when his propensity to imbibe good liquor
stood strongly in the way of the due performance of
his duties. Neither he nor his master were quite so
clear-headed on this particular morning as might have
been the case if their evening had been passed in a
somewhat different manner. Nevertheless, it was so
evident to both of them that something must be done,
and that speedily, that they soon shook off the effects
of the past night's revel, and the servant dutifully re-
ceived and prepared to execute the commands of his
master. The latter desired that jugs of cold water


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 55
should be immediately thrown over the face and head
of all the men-at-arms who were not already up and
about, and that those who were already in that con-
dition should be gathered in the courtyard without
delay.
The fortress of Westenhanger covered a considerable
space of ground, for, outside the moat which encircled
the castle itself, thick circular walls enclosed not only
the chapel, which was separate from the castle, but
also a fair-sized lawn and meadow to the west of the
building. In this grassy enclosure were collected those
cattle and sheep which had been driven from their
legitimate pastures on the previous day, and a pleasant
enough place of refuge they doubtless found it,
not knowing how short was the passage therefrom to
the butcher's slaughter-house. The Baron waited not
for the assembling of all his men, of whom he had
some hundred and fifty at that moment within the
fortress, but, hastily descending to the courtyard,
shouted loudly for his horse, and avowed his intention
of riding forth at once against the peasant churls who
had dared to congregate so near his abode, and indeed
upon his very property.
"What ho, fellows!" he cried: "bring out Black
Diamond, and mount ye all as soon as need be. We
will teach these foolish villagers a lesson they may
not like, and that without delay."
Not many minutes elapsed before his command
had been obeyed, and, at the head of some seventy
horsemen, the Baron rode forth from his gates in the
direction of New Inn Green.'
It was at this moment that Farmer Kellatt and


56 QUEER FOLK.
Bridger had succeeded in getting their forces into
something like order, and were about to commence an
advance upon the fortress of the enemy. Great was
their surprise, then, to behold the retainers of the Baron
leaving their stronghold, and deliberately advancing
upon a body of men some twenty times at least their
own number. Their surprise, perhaps, was not un-
mingled with dread, for the well-armed and fairly
mounted men who accompanied De Poynings might
well inspire terror in the hearts of rustics who had
never faced such an enemy before. There was, how-
ever, too much of the old pluck of the Men of Kent
in the peasants to make them hesitate in the course
which they ought to pursue, and as soon as they caught
sight of the robber Baron himself, riding at the head
of his troop, they sent up a loud shout of anger and
defiance, which had anything but an agreeable sound'
to the ears of the Westenhanger band. But De Poy-
nings rode boldly forward until he came within fifty
yards or so of the peasants, and then raising his voice,
and spurring his horse at the same time, he shouted :—
"Disperse, ye villains!" and charged down upon
them boldly, followed by his men in somewhat
irregular order. But before he had ridden ten yards
farther a shower of arrows greeted him and his troop;
his horse was struck by several, and as the broken
ground of the common rendered it impossible to charge
at full speed, he found himself at once in difficulties,
which were increased when Black Diamond, setting his
foot in a hole, rolled over and over upon the turf.
The Westenhanger horsemen, labouring up behind,
drew rein at once when they saw the accident which
"X


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 57
had befallen their leader, whilst the peasants raised a
loud shout, and would have rushed eagerly forward,
but that they were restrained by the wily Bridger,
who feared that if once their close order was broken
they might be ridden down and routed. The Baron
recovered his feet and his horse with marvellous
quickness, but finding that his forces wavered, and
perceiving at the same time that the right wing of the
peasant army was extending itself in such a manner
as would presently enable it to take his force in flank,
he waved his hand to his people to retreat, and
joining them as quickly as might be, rode fuming
and foaming with rage in the direction of his castle.
No sooner did they see that the foe was retreating,
than the peasants burst into a loud and triumphant
shout. It was hopeless to restrain them now, and,
bursting from their ranks, they charged headlong after
the retiring band. The latter would fain have turned
again, but that the cross-bow men galled them sadly,
and four or five had already been slain or wounded.
So, deeming discretion the better part of valour, they
made the best of their way towards the shelter of their
walls, and entered, in some confusion, within some
twenty minutes of the time of their exit. But the
distance was so short that the peasant army pressed
close upon them, and the large gates were scarcely
shut before the rattle of the blows of the pursuers
was heard upon them.
The Baron, somewhat crestfallen by this repulse,
now for the first time began to think that he had
possibly brought himself into a somewhat disagreeable
position. He had, it is true, more than a hundred and


58 QUEER FOLK. [I.
fifty men under his command, most of whom would
be more or less serviceable in defence of the castle.
But the attackers were evidently some two thousand
or thereabouts, and although the outer walls of the
fortress were stout and strong, their circumference
was too great to be well defended by the force at his
command, and the interior of the castle was the only
safe resort. He gave immediate command, therefore,
to drive the sheep and cattle over the drawbridge into
the courtyard of the castle itself, and to leave the
outer meadow to be carried and occupied, if they
would, by the invading force. Accordingly, the port-
cullis was raised, and the men-at-arms began to drive
the cattle over the drawbridge with as much haste as
possible. The castle stood at the extreme east end
of the enclosure, so that the large gates into the court-
yard faced directly to the west. On the eastern side
there was nothing but the moat between the castle
itself and the open country beyond, with which a
wooden bridge, on to which opened a postern door,
was the only communication. The attack of the
peasant army, therefore, if they once passed the outer
and western walls, would naturally be directed against
that part of the castle which faced the enclosure.
There was another reason also for this, in the fact that
as the builders and possessors of the fortress had
originally contemplated the defence of the outer walls,
less care had been bestowed upon the westward de-
fences of the castle itself, which would of course be
safe and unmolested until the outer wall was carried.
The assaulting peasants on this occasion gave the
defenders but little time for the work about which


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. i9
they were employed. The walls were in some places
of no great height, while sundry trees which stood
near were easy of ascent to the rustics, who swarmed
up them and dropped on to the thick top of the walls
from the overhanging branches. Meanwhile others
vigorously attacked the gates with axes and hatchets;
and before many minutes had elapsed, being aided
from inside by the scalers of the wall, they succeeded
in effecting an entrance, and rushed pell-mell into the
enclosed lawn. Immediately before them stood the
castle, the chapel on the right, and a covered passage,
close against the wall, leading therefrom into the
castle, so that there was a second entrance on that
side besides the drawbridge over which the defenders
had just entered. Between the invading army and
the castle were several goodly trees, and sundry
bushes upon the chapel side; otherwise there was no
protection from the castle, which commanded the
enclosure.
The farmer, as he rode in upon the lawn, saw some
of the last of his sheep and cattle being driven over
the drawbridge, and with a loud shout urged his men
forward in pursuit. The wary Bridger would have
restrained him, lest he should be exposed to an
arrow from a hidden enemy from within; but there
was no restraint possible either for Farmer Kellatt or
the rest of the army. Elated by their first success,
they rushed eagerly forward, and hurled themselves
right and left against the castle with loud shouts of
mingled anger and triumph. Ere they had crossed
the enclosure, however, the last of De Poynings's
men-at-arms had entered the castle, the portcullis


60 QUEER FOLK, [i.
had fallen, and the drawbridge had been raised. If,
therefore, the moat had surrounded the castle entirely,
it would have been difficult for the invading army to
have passed that obstacle, especially as it was filled
with water, of no very clean or inviting appearance.
But whilst the passage from the chapel afforded a
communication with the castle on the southern side,
on the northern corner of the enclosure the moat had
at some period or other been filled up, so as to allow
of certain outbuildings and offices to be erected,
joining on to the castle walls. It was evident, there-
fore, that on their right or left, as they approached
the castle, the most likely point of assault would be
found. However, at the first outset, the peasants
rushed tumultuously forward and made straight for
the main entrance. Up to that moment no sign had
been given from the building, and nothing had been
seen save the last stragglers of the garrison hurrying
in over the drawbridge. But now, on the battlements
of the castle suddenly appeared a man, clad in full
armour, whom many of the rustics knew at once to
be De Poynings himself. There was an immediate
silence, and as he held up his hand as if about to
speak, all listened eagerly to his words.
"How now, fellows!" he haughtily exclaimed in a
loud voice. "Whence come ye hither, and with what
intent?"
There was silence for an instant, and then a dozen
voices cried out at once:—
"Grace Kellatt! We want Grace Kellatt!"
"Fools and dolts!" returned the Baron. "When
did ye know a Norman Lord yield to peasant churls
-


L] the WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 6i
such as ye are? Fly whilst yet ye can, or your bodies
will be food for crows before sunset!"
But the stout farmer now pushed forward, and
spoke out boldly :—
"Sir Baron," he said, "thou hast robbed me of
sheep and cattle, and a long day will it be befoge I
make up the loss, yet will I cry quits an thou givest
me back my daughter safe and sound: give her back,
and these good fellows and I will trouble thee no
more!"
Loud and scornfully laughed De Poynings as he
heard these words.
"An thou wouldst have thy daughter back," said
he, "thou must fill our larders with more food, and
our coffers with red gold. I'faith, she is worth a good
ransom, and they who cannot guard such treasures
when they have them, must look to pay heavily ere
they recover them from those who know their value."
"Man!" cried the farmer, in a voice hoarse with
emotion, "give me my Grace, and let me go!"
"No gold, no Grace," retorted the other; and then,
in a louder and more authoritative voice, he shouted:
"Be off, ye villains, or your blood be upon your own
heads!"
At these words the peasants raised a shout of fury
and indignation, which was answered by a scornful
laugh from De Poynings, who retired at once from the
battlements, whilst at the same moment a volley of
cross-bow bolts from the walls and windows of the
castle struck several of the attacking army to the
ground, and wounded several more. At this evidence
of an intention to resist their assault and refuse the


62 QUEER FOLK. [i.
maiden's release, the peasants no longer restrained
their rage, but with loud cries rushed madly upon
the castle. They could, however, do but little from
where they then stood. Their arrows rattled harm-
lessly against the walls, and the moat separated them
fro#i the enemy they wished to attack, who securely
poured forth his return fire against them. This con-
tinued for a few minutes, until it became obvious to
the leaders of the peasants that their men were not
only fighting at great disadvantage, but with an almost
impossibility of success, unless some change in their
tactics was at once adopted. Accordingly, Farmer
Kellatt and Bridger exerted themselves to the utmost,
and in a short time induced their friends and followers
to listen to their advice. A certain number of archers
and cross-bow men were directed to shelter themselves
behind the trees and bushes, and to keep up a con-
tinuous fire against every living thing which showed
itself on the castle walls or at the windows which
overlooked the enclosure. Then, the remainder of
the army was divided into three parts, one of which,
under the command of Bridger, ably seconded by
Finn of Mersham and Robus of Aldington, hurled
themselves against the outhouses connected with the
northern corner of the castle and enclosure, whilst a
second body, who were led on by Stickles of Hasting-
leigh and Hayward of Brabourne Leese (two men
well known to the guardians of the deer in many a
neighbouring park), attempted to obtain an entrance
to the castle by means of the covered passage from
the chapel. Meanwhile, as the horsemen could be of
little use, they, with Farmer Kellatt at their head, and


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 63
followed by a number of stragglers, retreated from
the enclosure, and riding round to the eastern side of
the castle, kept watch near the postern gate, for the
double purpose of preventing any unexpected sally
being made therefrom by the defenders of the castle,
and of giving timely information to their friends in
the event of any succour arriving to the beleaguered
garrison. Then began an assault which was, perhaps,
at its beginning, one of the most extraordinary
ever witnessed in England, and certainly, as will be
presently seen, justified such a description at its close.
The peasants threw themselves against the walls with
great resolution. They hammered with their axes—
they battered with such poor weapons as they had—
and seizing various logs of wood which they found
here and there in the enclosure, and which had been
left lying there for the purpose of being converted
into firewood, they raised these on their shoulders and
used them as battering-rams.
The walls of the outhouses before mentioned were
not so strong as the walls of the castle itself, and
evidently shook at every blow from these newly in-
vented engines. Those of the garrison who had been
told off to protect this portion of the works kept up
an incessant fire of arrows against the assailants, but
the latter were somewhat protected by the outhouses
themselves. When, however, they attempted to
clamber upon the slated top of the buildings, they
were more exposed, and more than one was struck by
the arrows of the besieged. Could they succeed in
crawling to the top of the roof, where it joined the
castle wall, they would be within reach of the windows


64 QUEER FOLK. [i.
immediately above, and might hope to force an
entrance.
But these windows were occupied by cross-bow
men, who protected the roof full well, in spite of the
bold attempts of their opponents. At last Bridger
directed some of the best archers among his followers
to make these windows the special object of their
attention, and so constantly and truly were their
arrows directed thither, that the defenders found it no
easy matter to maintain their position. The roof was
presently covered with peasants swarming up it like
bees, and there appeared some danger of the place
being then and there carried. At this moment, how-
ever, a novel diversion was effected by old Bundlebutts,
who, having organized a supply of water, hot and
hot, from the kitchen, caused pails of the scalding
fluid to be emptied in rapid succession from the
battlements immediately above.
The hot water cooled the ardour of the unarmed
peasants to no inconsiderable degree, and in spite of
the encouraging shouts of those who were behind, and
who had not therefore themselves experienced the
unpleasant effects of the bath to which the climbers
had been exposed, they dropped off one by one, and
presently retreated altogether from the roof, amid the
laughter and jeers of the triumphant garrison. But
at this moment an answering shout from the attacking
party told that something had occurred to raise their
spirits.
The wall at one part of the outhouse had given
way before the repeated blows inflicted upon it by
the efforts of some of the peasants with the trunk of
A


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 65
a tree which they had found hard by. It tottered—
shook again and again—and at last fell in sufficiently
to make a breach, through which a number of men
instantly poured, amid the cheers and shouts of their
friends. Their triumph, however, was speedily checked,
for those who entered the breach fell tumbling head-
long into a saw-pit: this particular outhouse being -
one appropriated to the purpose of sawing wood for
various requirements of the Baron's establishment.
Beyond the saw-pit, however, was a door through
which access to the castle was obtained, and this being
shut and barred against the invaders, their destruction
of the outer wall proved but a temporary success.
Bridger, who had been too wary to enter among the
first, soon perceived how the point already gained
might be turned to some advantage. The men in
the outhouses were protected by the roof from the
missiles hurled from the windows above, and could
therefore operate securely against the walls. He at
once directed the wooden battering-rams to be hauled
through the breach, and prepared for a desperate
attack upon the door and inner wall.
All this time the attack upon the covered passage
between the chapel and the castle had been resolutely
going on, but under considerable disadvantages, as
the attacking party were necessarily much exposed
to the arrows and cross-bow bolts which the garrison
showered upon them. However, after a while, but
not before they had lost several of their number, the
peasants broke into the passage and attacked the
little gate which led to the bridge across the moat.
Not one of them turned back into the chapel, being
F


66 QUEER FOLK. [i.
restrained by religious feeling from any desire to
plunder in that direction, and knowing, moreover, that
their foe was before them. The little gate gave way
before their repeated blows, and they rushed hastily
across the wooden bridge to attack the door beyond,
protected, like their fellows on the other side of the
enclosure, by the roof above their heads.
But an unforeseen reverse here encountered the
brave peasants. Foreseeing that this was sure to be
made a salient point of attack, and knowing well
enough that it was the weakest part of his defences,
De Poynings had no sooner entered the castle than
he had ordered the bridge to be sawn three parts
asunder; the consequence of which naturally was, that
when some dozen or so of the foremost attackers,
including the redoubtable Stickles, came together
upon the bridge, their united weight caused it imme-
diately to give way, and the unlucky men fell one
upon the other into the muddy and unsavoury waters
of the moat below, their fellows pressing upon them
in such eager haste that for a moment it seemed as if
the whole army was bent upon following the example
of their leaders. At the same instant a loud laugh
of scorn and derision was heard, and the robber Baron
himself stood forward upon the battlements, imme-
diately above the passage-gate, and pointed con-
temptuously to the unhappy men struggling in the
moat beneath.
"Ha! ha!" he laughed, in a defiant and exulting
tone, "is it thus ye would take our good Castle of
Westenhanger? Wallow there, ye Saxon swine, and
drink your fill of the good liquor I provide for such


I.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBS. 67
churls as ye be, for never a nearer sight shall ye have
of the liquor within the walls." He spoke boldly and
confidently, and there was none of those whom he
addressed who could well reply; for although the
water was barely deep enough to drown them, it was
of so thick and nauseous a character, that those who
had fallen head-foremost into it were in such a sorry
condition that there was little spirit left in them.
Nevertheless, old Stickles, who had recovered himself
sufficiently to be holding on by one of the posts
which supported that part of the bridge which was
still standing, and had nearly cleared his mouth and
throat of the unusually disagreeable fluid which he had
unwillingly taken in, found voice enough to speak, and
strength enough to shake his fist, at the taunting foe
above. "Laugh on, Sir Baron," he said, with a grim
look upwards, "laugh on, an thou wilt; but the day
is not over yet, and they laugh best who laugh last!
The Man of Coombe is not so easy beaten, proud and
reckless as be those whom thou leadest."
Now it can never be known whether these words
were merely spoken by way of bravado, or whether
Stickles, being a man somewhat beyond his fellows in
knowledge and intelligence, had guessed that the
■" Man of Coombe," who had been promised as a
leader to the peasant army, was not by any means
the same as good Farmer Kellatt, under whom they
had so willingly ranged themselves. Certain it is,
however, that the words were spoken, and that this
had hardly been the case before a series of events,
not only totally unexpected by both parties, but most
extraordinary in themselves, immediately occurred.
F 2


68 QUEER FOLK. [l
A bright flash of lightning suddenly illuminated the
whole place, then followed a most tremendous roll of
thunder, and almost simultaneously the castle seemed
to vibrate as if with the shock of an earthquake: and
into the enclosure there rode, over the gates, which fell
to the ground as if smitten by some mighty and irre-
sistible force, a single horseman, whom all the peasants
recognized at once as the same who had summoned
them from their different parishes to join in the pre-
sent enterprise. He was clad from head to foot in
black armour, save, that a scarf of white crossed his
broad chest, and a long white beard fell over his
breast; his steed was also of jet black; and his whole
appearance denoted great strength. Forward he
rode—straight forward—across the enclosure, and
reined in his steed immediately opposite the front
entrance.
At the sight of this new comer hostilities were
suspended by common consent for a moment, and a
solemn silence prevailed among the contending par-
ties, which was presently broken by the clear, loud
voice of the stranger pronouncing these words—
"Should Englishmen, on English soil,
Their neighbours' hearths and homes despoil?
Restore, bold Lord, thy captured prey,
And evil yet may pass away:
Resist—and thou shalt feel the might
Of Powers which can protect the Right!"
He spoke—and both sides paused in wondering
expectation as to what the answer might be. They
were not long left in doubt. De Poynings wanted


-I.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 69
not for courage, and the presence of a single stranger,
however imposing might be his appearance, was little
likely to daunt the proud Baron.
"Ha!" he cried, "by the sword of my grandfather,
what malapert knave have we here?" and raising ,'
his voice still louder, he scornfully answered in the
following terms—
"Turn hence thy steed, ill-mannered dolt,
Or, be thou Peasant, Squire, or Peer,
By virtue of a cross-bow bolt
I'll try thy right to interfere!"
And, suiting the action to the word, he snatched a
cross-bow from the nearest man-at-arms, levelled it at
the stranger, and pulled the trigger with a true aim.
Marvellous to relate, the stout bow snapped in twain
as he pulled, and the bolt fell harmless at his own
feet, whilst he against whom it had been aimed,
sitting erect in his saddle, calmly waved his hand,
and lifting his voice again, so that it was heard far
and near, uttered these words—
"Sons of Coombe! 'gainst lawless might,
Succour! and protect the Right!"
The words were hardly out of his mouth before the
air was darkened by an enormous flight of jackdaws
and starlings, who without the slightest hesitation
or fear descended from all sides upon the castle,
screaming, flapping their wings and attacking the
garrison with beak and claw. Such an extraordinary
sight had probably never before been witnessed.
■•


70 QUEER FOLK. [i.
The men vainly endeavoured to drive the birds away,
hitting wildly right and left, and shouting loudly at
the same time. The feathered enemy was in such
numbers that it was impossible to evade their attack,,
and all the efforts of the defenders of the castle could
not drive them away, whilst the air was filled with
their noise.
At the same time, encouraged by this diversion,,
the peasant army rallied on all sides, and redoubled
their efforts to force their way into the castle.
Those who had attempted an entrance by the covered
passage had by this time thrown planks and branches
across the chasm caused by the sawing of the bridge •
some of those who had fallen into the moat, headed
by the resolute Stickles, had clambered up on that
part of the bridge nearest the castle, and in a few
moments were thundering at the passage door with
a determination whish seemed likely ere long to over-
come the obstacle to their progress. On the other
side, also, the door communicating between the saw-
pit lodge and the castle began to give way, and the
defenders of the castle began to perceive that in the
space of a few minutes an enemy far superior to-
themselves in number would be within the castle,
whilst to continue the defence from the battlements
was next to impossible, since they were positively
overwhelmed by the wonderful and pertinacious attack
of their feathered foes.
De Poynings literally foamed with rage, but, being
wise enough to see that the day was likely to go
against him, determined not to be taken by the
peasants like a rat in a trap, but rather to retreat


72 QUEER FOLK. [i.
He found the maiden standing by the closely barred
casement and gazing forth upon the scene before her
with wonder and affright. She could hear the noise
of the battle which was raging on the other side, and
could see the horsemen and stragglers of the peasant
army patrolling in front of that side of the castle from
which she looked down ; but what was the meaning of
the affair she could not guess, being of far too modest
a disposition to imagine for a moment that it was on
her account that men were engaged in deadly combat.
As De Poynings entered the room she turned round,
and seeing her captor before her, clasped her hands in
earnest entreaty, and thus addressed him :—
"Oh tell me, noble sir, whence this outcry, and what
means this noise of men in anger? It is all so dif-
ferent from my old, quiet home life—pray let me go
back again, and detain me here no longer!"
De Poynings gnashed his teeth as he answered her,
with some bitterness in his tones: "Know'st thou
not the cause of this hubbub and turmoil? It is thee,
sweetheart, whom thy father and his peasant friends
are seeking, and they think to brave the power of the
De Poynings, and to storm his castle. Ere they shall
do so, however, helped though they be, as I verily be-
lieve, by the demon himself, they shall find they have
hard nuts to crack, and when the nut is cracked, the
kernel shall be gone withal. Come thou with me,
pretty one; we of Norman blood lose not so easily
our hold on what we value, and I yield to none
the prize that has already cost me so dear." So
saying, he approached Grace, who shrank affrighted
into the embrasure of the window, and in pitiful tones


74 QUEER FOLK. [i.
father rose above every other sensation in his breast;
his child, his darling, the light and life of his old age,
was in danger, and though there had been ten armed
barons instead of one, he would have freely attacked
them at that moment.
"Villain Lord !" he cried aloud as he bore down
upon the foe, "thou fiiest no farther this way! Yield
up the maiden, or die in thy craven flight!"
De Poynings smiled grimly, as, holding Grace on the
saddle with his left arm, the hand of which grasped
the bridle, he raised his well-tried, light battle-axe in
his right, and prepared to meet his opponent. "I yield
no maiden," he said sternly, "and he who seeks to
check my course courts his own fate." So saying he
raised his axe, and in another moment a blow would
have been given and taken on either side, with a result
which could hardly have been doubtful, as the superior
skill and strength of the Baron would have in all pro-
bability prevailed with ease over the unwieldy weapon
and untrained bravery of the farmer. But at that
instant, when the horse of Farmer Kellatt was barely
ten yards from the other, a hand was suddenly laid
upon his rein, which caused the good steed to stop
short, as if he had been shot, whilst another form was
at the same moment interposed between the two
combatants.
It was the form of the black horseman, and so fierce
and terrible was his aspect, that the horsemen around
instinctively drew back on either side, and even De
Poynings himself quailed before the eagle glance that
met his own. He reined in his war-horse, who tossed
up his head, trembled all over, and snorted as with fear.


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 75
But the heart of his master was too bold to be long sub-
ject to the momentary dread which had possessed it.
"Who art thou," cried the Baron, "who comest a
second time between me and victory? Man or demon,
De Poynings fears thee not, nor canst thou chill the
old Norman blood by thy juggling tricks!"
The stranger sat on his steed immoveable as a statue
whilst these words were addressed to him, and then
replied in his cold, clear, distinct voice—
"Man of war, devoid of shame,
Disgrace alike to blood and name;
One moment pause—and hear the doom,
Foretold thee by the Man of Coombe:
Thy crimes have done thy House away,
Henceforth it falleth to decay:
Woe for the good Lords gone! alas!
Both name and lineage must pass—■
Another in their place shall stand,
Another Lord shall rule thy land—
And Westenhanger's ancient place
No more shall own De Poynings' race!"
He spoke, and as he foretold the decay and ruin of
the ancient family whose unworthy representative
stood before him, the Baron felt an unusual feeling
of awe steal overjiim, which unnerved his arm and
deprived him of his accustomed daring. Insensibly
he loosened his hold upon Grace, and the maiden,
who had recovered consciousness during the recent
pause, took advantage of this action to slip from the
saddle to the ground and tremblingly make her way
to her father's side. At that moment the clamour
from behind grew louder and louder, and tremendous
shouts from the peasants told in unmistakeable accents
s


76 QUEER FOLK. [i.
that the castle was won. De Poynings cast a look
behind, and the last thing he saw was the faithful
Bundlebutts struggling manfully with a host of enemies
in a window just above the moat, into which he pre-
sently tumbled, dragging with him one of his assailants,
his hold of whom nothing could make him relinquish.
De Poynings was loth to leave his old servant behind,
and still more furious at having lost the prize for
which he had endured so much; but there was a spell
upon him which he could not resist. But the black
horseman now drew quietly aside, and pointing in the
direction of Hythe, spoke once more :—
"Hence! caitiff Baron, in the strife
Defeated, yet mayst save thy life.
Fly—tarry not—nor look behind,
But bear the words of Fate in mind."
This speech still further added to the rage which
burned within the Baron's heart. Overcoming his
terror of the supernatural, and determined not to belie
the courage of his race, he wielded his battle-axe on
high, and shouting aloud, "A De Poynings !—A De
Poynings!" rushed upon the black horseman and
aimed at him a terrible blow. But the other stretched
out his hand, in which was apparently only an ordinary
stick of holly, upon which he received the blow.
Wonderful to relate, the good battle-axe shivered to
atoms, and fell to the ground between the two, whilst
the stranger, with a stroke which seemed marvellously
light and gentle to those who were looking on, hurled
the Baron from his horse with such violence that he
lay as one dead upon the ground. His followers


78 QUEER FOLK. [i.
their equipment, and the certainty that there was little
but hard knocks to be gained from them, soon damped
the spirits of the peasants, who came hurrying back
to the castle after a very short pursuit.
During the scenes which have been described, it
will not be difficult to imagine what had become of
Farmer Kellatt and his daughter. The good man
had jumped off his horse with an agility beyond his
years when he saw his daughter's escape from the
custody of De Poynings. She, poor child, had thrown
herself into her father's arms, and lay sobbing for very
joy; and so, somehow or other, they passed several
minutes of time, during which occurred the events
which I have related. Then it was that, aroused by
the returning peasants and by the inquiries and con-
gratulations addressed to him on all sides, Farmer
Kellatt bethought him of the mighty succour which
had been given to his cause by the black horseman,
and turned to give his warm and hearty thanks where
they were so well deserved. But the black horseman
was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared as
quickly and mysteriously as he had come. No one
remembered to have noticed him going, though every-
one was sure they had seen him not five minutes
before. Gone, however, he certainly was, and, what
was equally to be remarked, since the walls had
yielded to the assaults of the peasant army not a
jackdaw or starling had been seen about the place.
It now became the duty of the farmer and his friends
to decide what should be done with the castle which
they had captured. The cattle, sheep, and horses
which were found within the courtyard were justly


I.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 79
considered the property of the victors, and the worthy
farmer recovered much of his lost possessions, though
he would not lay a finger upon anything else. The
rest, therefore, were divided among the victorious
peasants, who had also taken what plunder they could
from the castle, although the Baron's habits were such
that his abode contained no great quantity of valuable
goods. As for the garrison, who had yielded without
much resistance after their master's flight from the
castle had become known to them, they were suffered
to depart where they would, though of course a cer-
tain number of them, as well as of the successful
party, had suffered in the combat, and a few on either
side had been slain. But as for the castle itself, after
a short consultation, the leaders of the victorious army
decided that the best thing they could do was to
leave it alone. If they had destroyed it, as was sug-
gested by some of the more reckless and excited
among them, it was not impossible that the anger of
certain of the neighbouring landowners might have
been kindled at that which would have been considered
an offence against their order, whilst they would pro-
bably view with a lenient eye an expedition strictly
confined to the recovery of stolen property and the
rescue of a captured daughter. So they wisely left
the castle as it was, with a breach or two in its old
walls, and a greater need of general repair than it had
in the morning; and before the sun set that day, the
peasant army had melted away and the men had
dispersed to their several homes. Before they left New
Inn Green, however, Farmer Kellatt rode amongst
them, thanking them in brief but kindly and hearty


80 QUEER FOLK. [i.
terms for the aid which they had afforded him, and
his, during their great trial and sorrow. The honest
fellows received his thanks with friendly cordiality,
and eagerly pressed forward to shake Grace by the
hand, and congratulate her upon her safe restoration
to her father and her home. And so ended this great
day, the close of which saw Farmer Kellatt and his
daughter once more re-enter their own homestead in
peace and safety.
The delight of old Mrs. Revel may be better ima-
gined than described. She shook Grace by the hand
as if she would have wrung her arm off. She slapped
her husband on the back until he coughed again with
the violence of her affection. She expressed an earnest
wish that she could set her ten commandments in the
wicked Baron's face. She scolded the maids with
lively and assiduous zeal, and talked nineteen to the
dozen for the rest of the evening, and probably finished
by talking herself to sleep at last for very joy.
Everybody was glad to get Grace back, and she
herself was as delighted and as thankful as she could
possibly be. Now, indeed, it all seemed like a dream,
so quickly had events passed since the moment when
De Poynings and his followers first rode into the
farmyard, and so short did those long hours of
watching and trembling, of waiting and fearing, now
appear, though they had seemed endless whilst
she was actually enduring them in the Castle of
Westenhanger.
But amidst their great joy at the successful issue
of the business which had at one time threatened such
sorrow and misery, neither the farmer nor his daughter
.


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 8l
for a moment forgot the quarter from whence they
had received succour in their hour of need. In the
extraordinary quickness with which the news had
been carried far and wide, and the peasants aroused;
in the strange flight of jackdaws and starlings; and
more than all, in the presence of the wondrous black
horseman, they recognized the mighty hand of the
Warlock, and doubted not indeed that the overthrower
of the haughty De Poynings was none other than the
Warlock himself. On the very next morning, there-
fore, both father and daughter resolved to go together
to the great Chalk-pit, and to return their hearty
thanks to the good friend who had served them so
well. Willingly would they have taken presents in their
hands, but that their previous experience had shown
them that the mysterious Being with whom they had
to deal needed no mortal gifts. So without anything
of the kind, but with light steps and grateful hearts,
they sought the abode of their benefactor. When
they had arrived at the entrance, Grace, at the desire
of her father, spoke first, after the usual rhyming
fashion :—
"Accept, we pray, the thanks of grateful folk
For timely succour in our hour of woe,
For Fate had surely dealt a cruel stroke,
Had not thy goodness turned aside the blow.
Saved by thy might from misery and shame,
We gladly would our gratitude display;
If 'tis not possible, yet all the same
We feel it, Mighty Being, every day."
She ceased speaking, and in a few moments came
back the answer in the usual voice :—
G


82 QUEER FOLK. [t.
"To succour Beauty and to quell the Wrong
Is ever the first duty of the strong;
Nor need I gratitude for might displayed
'Gainst theft and violence in arms arrayed.
Now on my words bestow attentive heed,
Seek me no more, unless in urgent need.
Whence, who, or what I am, I may not show,
'Tis not for mortal cognizance to know:
For, wondrous though it seem to pride of men,
Things may and do exist beyond their ken;
And though my might henceforth may yet be shown,
Beware of seeking what may not be known!"
Then the speaker stopped, and left Grace and her
father tolerably certain that it was very little use to
attempt any further to show their gratitude to the
occupant of the great Chalk-pit. After a short pause,
therefore, they determined at once to retrace their
steps to the farm, but not before Grace, who could
not bear to leave so good a friend without one word
at parting, mustered up courage to speak once more,,
which she did accordingly, in these words:—
"Since gratitude we cannot prove,
We will not venture to rebel:
Thou shalt be cherished in our love,
So, mighty friend, we bid Farewell."
She spoke, and it seemed as if the echo from the
hills repeated her last word. "Farewell, farewell,
farewell," softly and yet more softly uttered, fell upon
the ears of the father and daughter, and then all was
silence again, and after a moment's pause they turned
homewards.
From that day forth the Wise Man of Coombe was


84 QUEER FOLK. [L
became a still more popular companion at the mar-
ket dinners, and was often called upon to relate
(which he did with much legitimate embellishment)
the particulars of the Siege of Westenhanger.
Of course, everybody will want to know what be-
came of Grace. Well, what would have been the
happiest fate that could have befallen her? Would
it have been better for her to have stayed all her life
with her old father, as long as his life lasted, and then
have managed the farm all alone, as an active and
intelligent woman might have done, with the help of
old Revel? Or, would it have been a happier fate to
have married some stalwart young farmer whose
household she would have managed, whose home she
would have cheered, and whose heart would have
Seen all her own? Or, would it have been more
desirable that, struck with the vanity of this world
and its pleasures, she should have sought refuge in a
nunnery and passed the rest of her life in quiet
N seclusion? Let everybody who reads this story settle
what fate would have been the happiest for Grace,
and then feel assured that such was exactly the fate
which did befall her. For, to tell you the truth, I am
as ignorant of her real fate as any of you. The whole
story was told to me by a very old magpie in Coombe
Rough, as I was sitting under one of the oak trees
there, waiting for the gamekeepers. The bird was
friendly enough with me, and chattered so fast that I
had the greatest difficulty in taking notes of the story
he told. But just as he got to that part, and would
doubtless have told me all that happened to sweet
Grace after the adventures of which I have told you,


i.] THE WARLOCK OF COOMBE. 85
one of the keepers came in sight, upon which my
feathered friend muttered something about "two birds
in the bush being better than one in the hand " (which I
believe to be the bird rendering of an old proverb
which we men read somewhat differently) and imme-
diately mounted very high in the air and flew quite
away, leaving me ignorant of the details which I so
much wished to know. But Grace was so good, and
nice, and pretty into the bargain, that I feel quite
certain she had a happy life, and so I am not so dis-
appointed as might otherwise have been the case.
There are other stories about the Warlock of
Coombe, but I have told you all that the magpie told
me that day. Coombe Wood is not now half the
size it was in those old days, and Coombe Rough
is quite separated from it, several green fields inter-
vening between the two. And for many, many years,
the great Chalk-pit has been quite open, with no
brambles or bushes near it, and the hill above it is
clear also, the only remnants of the old tangled side-
hill being found in the numerous thorn-trees with
which it is still studded. No Warlock has, I believe
been seen there for several generations, although
it would be too much to say that there have not
been many "wise men" in Brabourne at all times,
and probably even in the present day some may
be left.
When, how, and where the Warlock disappeared, I
am quite unable to tell you, but if you wish to know
all the particulars, you have only to learn the magpie
language, and as these birds are well-informed upon
all such matters, and are rare hands at old tales and


QUEER FOLK.
legends, I do not doubt for a moment that you will
be able to find out all about it. But, of course, as far
as I am concerned, I can only tell you as much as
I know, and having faithfully done so, I must bring
to a close my veracious history concerning the once-
famous Warlock of Coombe.


II.
THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH.
BESSIE and Mary Wilson were exceedingly delighted
when they were told that their parents had taken a
place in Scotland for three months from the ist of
August, and that the whole family would start for
the North so as to arrive at the aforesaid place by the
date mentioned. To boys and girls, and, indeed, to
grown-up people who have never been there, the name
of Scotland is one of magic interest. Mountains
covered with heather, beautiful lakes in wild glens,
magnificent waterfalls, rapid torrents, and high crags
towering up in solemn, silent grandeur towards the
heavens above—such are the visions which flit before
the eyes of the romantically-inclined young lady who
hears that she is to be taken to Scotland; whilst the
more prosaic school-boy already begins to dream of
moors alive with grouse, of pools teeming with sal-
mon, and of the variety of wild game which fortune
may bring within the range of the sportsman's gun.
To Bessie and Mary everything would be new.
Their home was in the far south, and they were more


QUEER FOLK. [ii.
accustomed to rich corn-fields and fertile meadows
than to the barren lands and wild scenery which they
were now to visit. The prospect before them, however,
was most delightful.
Ballaquoich (for so was the place called which Mr.
Wilson had taken) was situated in the Western
Highlands, and was reported to be beautiful beyond
description. Moreover, the pleasure of the first half
of their visit would be enhanced by the presence of
their Eton brother, Jack, and great was the fun which
they anticipated in exploring the neighbourhood with
that adventurous young gentleman. Little Joe, the
youngest of the four children who completed the
Wilson family, would be with them also, so that
altogether the coming expedition bore a comfort-
able appearance and fairly gave rise to very happy
expectations.
Like everything else in this world, there were of
course some drawbacks in the reality. The journey
was tedious, there being no railway within many
miles. Then there turned out to be little or no game
to shoot, the salmon in the loch resolutely refused to
bite, and the amount of wet weather was considerable.
Still, nobody could deny that the place was beautiful
and the scenery charming. If the salmon were ob-
stinate, there were sea-trout in abundance, ready to
rise, and excellent when caught; there was an occa-
sional cormorant, a wild duck or a heron for Jack,
and, failing these, plenty of rooks at which he might
practise with his gun. Moreover, the neighbourhood
had been chosen by Sir Walter Scott as the scene of
one of his novels, and Mrs. Wilson had brought with


ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 89.
her all the aforesaid novels which relate to Scotland,
well knowing how much the pleasure of reading a
book is enhanced by being present in the very scenes
in which the plot of the story has been laid. So that,
indoors and outdoors, the young Wilsons found
amusement of one kind or another, and week after
week slipped pleasantly away, until the reassembling
of Eton recalled Jack to England and broke up the
family party. Then it was that those adventures
occurred which will form the subject of my present
story.
I should tell you that the house of Ballaquoich was
situated close to the edge of a beautiful large fresh-
water loch, which was fed by many torrents from the
mountains around. But the principal "feeder" was a
broad channel of water which stretched from the head
of the loch far away up the valley towards the moun-
tains from which it sprang. This stream was known in
the neighbourhood by the name of " the Canal," though
nature and not art had formed it as it was. It was a won-
derful place. For a mile or more it was wide enough for
several boats to travel side by side, and it was a delight
of almost daily occurrence for the Wilson children to
be rowed up it. The water was so clear, though deep,
that they could see the fish lying at the bottom, or
shooting about in shoals as they were disturbed by
the passage of the boat. On each side a thick belt of
trees fringed the water, and hung over it with pro-
tecting shade—as the boat passed up the channel, a
duck would suddenly rise from her hiding-place in,
some quiet pool by the side, or a heron would spring
from the bank, and even now and then an otter might


^o QUEER FOLK. [n.
be seen to dart from his lair into the water, which the
children would anxiously watch for the reappearance
of his round head and sharp eyes. After rowing a
certain distance the stream became narrower, and so
overhung by trees as to be hardly navigable. Just
before this part, however, the boat could be pushed
through a narrow passage to the left, where the chan-
nel turned. Under the branches of an overhanging
tree which reached from one shore to the other, a
little care, and in times of torrent not a little exer-
tion, enabled the man in charge of the boat to guide
her through this opening into a broader channel
beyond, much of the same character, though scarcely
so wide, for some fifty or sixty yards, during which
distance a little steering was required to keep in
deep water and avoid the sandbank, over which at
one spot no boat could pass. Then, emerging from
the trees, the boat came out into an open space,
where the stream surrounded a piece of pasture land
on three sides, the fourth being a swamp of reeds and
rushes, the home of ducks and snipe in abundance,
and a favourite place of resort for Jack and his father,
who designated it by the familiar title of "the Duck
Place." Having accomplished this, the stream wound
away again back to the right, keeping its character
for some distance, until it became narrower and nar-
rower, and was finally lost among the hills, though
not before it afforded to the fisherman some splendid
pools for salmon and trout, and to the lover of nature
some glorious torrents, adding much to the beauty of
the mountain scenery.
All this time, however, I am running away from


ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 91
the house, which, as I told you, was close to the loch.
In fact, opposite the front door, just across the carriage
drive, was a flight of wooden steps, down which you
scrambled on to a piece of rough grass which only
extreme courtesy could call a lawn, and which sloped
down to the loch within twenty yards. As you stood
in front of the house, the view across the loch, with
the moor and mountains beyond, and away to the
left, was magnificent. Then just behind the house
was the road which passed up the valley, from which
immediately rose the mountains, which at that point,
and for miles each way, were covered with woods
thick with fern, of which roedeer and hares were the
chief occupants, and which were steep enough to try
the wind and limbs of the stoutest pedestrian. But look
to the right and the scene was different. The valley
widened, and the stream from the loch, the width and
depth of which would not allow the passage of a boat,
hurried off towards the sea. In its journey it formed
two well-known salmon pools, a mile or more from
the loch, and to drag these was a source of great
delight to the children, although the result was not
always encouraging. Then after another mile or so
the stream flowed into a large salt-water loch, the
scene of many a joyous hour to the Wilson chil-
dren. The only other family who lived in the Glen
of Ballaquoich, excepting the cottagers, soon made
acquaintance with the Wilsons, and a valuable ac-
quaintance they proved, suggesting picnics in the
woods by the salt loch, and frequent excursions upon
the latter in a large sailing-boat which they them-
selves had launched.


92 QUEER FOLK. fii.
The Dempsters were, indeed, great in the arts of
picnics and fishing, and the eldest son, John, was
much given to the latter amusement. The patience
and kindness, moreover, which he showed in baiting
the children's hooks and assisting them in their
flounder-fishing, were really marvellous.
Oh, that flounder-fishing! What fun it was! The
whole party would go out together, and half-a-dozen
lines used to be in the water at once, from different
parts of the boat. The plan was to let your line touch
the bottom and then just raise it a couple of inches,
and if the flounders were in biting humour, you might
sometimes pull them up one after the other, and not
unfrequently one on each of the two hooks which
were always attached to each line.
Then there was fishing for lythe, codlings, and
whitings also, for which the smaller boat was
usually rowed out into "the narrows," between the
inner salt loch and that wider expanse which joined
the sea. So that, in spite of the game being very
scarce, the- Wilsons managed to amuse themselves
pretty well, and established some not unpleasant
memories to look back upon.
Scotland, however, with all its advantages of wild
scenery and healthy air, has, as is well known, its own
peculiarities. In that country, beyond any other
northern land, the art of magic still prevails, and
Witches and Warlocks have preserved a power which
has been successfully wrested from them in the greater
number of civilized countries. It may be true, that
railroads, steamers, improved agriculture, and com-
mercial progress may have rendered the south of


Ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 93
Scotland as commonplace and prosaic as an ordinary
English county, and that witchcraft has been banished
from that part of the kingdom; but if so, I am in-
clined to believe that it has sought refuge in the glens
and fastnesses of the north, and especially of the wild
west, and perhaps clings with greater pertinacity to
these parts of the beautiful country in consequence of
having been driven from the other. Be this as it may,
Ballaquoich had long borne an evil reputation, and the
events which I have to relate will doubtless do much
to sustain it.
After Jack's return to Eton, Bessie and Mary felt
occasionally somewhat dull, which was perhaps hardly
surprising. They amused themselves, however, as
well as they were able, and were always delighted
when any plan was proposed for going in the boat on
the salt loch, which was a favourite amusement.
One fine day such a plan had been arranged, and
several of the party started early in the afternoon for
the spot where the boat was moored. Somehow or
other the fishing was not very successful, and it was
determined to go through " the narrows" for a sail in
the larger sheet of water beyond.
Bessie and Mary, however, petitioned that they
might be put on shore during the sail, and amuse
themselves by playing on the rocks, and in the wood
and fern, which stretched down to the water's edge.
Their request was readily granted, one of the gentle-
men rowed them off in the little boat, and landed them
safely at a point where more than one pleasant picnic
had been held since their stay in the neighbourhood.
Here there was a small space between the water and


94 QUEER FOLK. [n.
the wood, strewn with small fragments of rock, and a
grassy beach stretched for a short distance right and
left, terminating in large rocks jutting out into the
loch. At the foot of these rocks were abundance of
mussel fish, and a bed of oysters also flourished close
to the spot. Overhead, the woods on the hill afforded
a pleasant shade, and the whole scenery around was
as wild and beautiful as can well be imagined.
The little girls sprang on shore and stood still for a
minute or two watching the ripple on the water as the
boat slowly rowed away. Then they began to look for
mussels, and when they were tired of that amusement
they clambered up a little way on the mountain and
sat down under a tree. Not long, however, did they
remain there, but descending again came down to the
edge of the water near one of the large rocks. All of
a sudden they perceived that they were no longer
alone. A few paces from them stood an old woman,
looking at them, as they fancied, with a strange ex-
pression of countenance. Bent nearly double with
age and infirmity, she supported her trembling steps
with a staff which was curiously curled like a ram's
horn, and on this she leant as she peered forward
eagerly upon the children. She had upon her head a
large coloured handkerchief or shawl twisted into a
shape something like that of a turban, whilst a red
cloak covered her aged shoulders.
As soon as she saw that her presence had been ob-
served, she croaked out in a tremulous voice, "Good-
day to ye, my little dears, good-day to your bonnie
faces, it does my old heart good to see them."
Now Bessie, who was twelve years old, and had of


H.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 95:
course read and heard a good deal about the various
strange things which occasionally happen in this world
of ours, had no sooner cast eyes upon the B eing before
her than she imagined that all was not right. She
remembered to have heard, moreover, that witches—
to which class she suspected the old woman to belong
—had no power to harm anyone who refused to answer
or speak to them, and that the best and only safe
method to pursue, when you happen to fall in with
such unpleasant creatures, is to go on your way with-
out taking any notice of them whatever. Therefore,
although her natural civility would have inclined her
to reply to the address of the person who spoke, she
remained resolutely silent, and seizing her sister's
hand, began to drag her away in another direction.
But Mary, though small in stature, had a large will
of her own, and saw no reason for alarm or fright.
Less well-informed than her sister, she little dreamed
that the red cloak which hung on the aged shoulders
before her covered the person of the most noted Witch
of those parts, and that danger lurked beneath the
soft and honied words which fell upon her ears. But
although she stood still, she spoke not, and the old
woman, hobbling a step or two nearer to the children,
again addressed them, singling out Mary especially
as the object of her remarks.
"Why, my pretty little dear," she said, " have you
never a kindly word to say to an old body? How
fresh and well you look, to be sure! I can tell you
where the best mussels grow, and show you many
fine things about the loch and the woods. Would ye
like to come and see where the roedeer hide?"


96 QUEER FOLK. [n.
Now whilst Jack had been at Ballaquoich he had
shot two roedeer, and these animals still continued to
be objects of attraction to his sisters, so as soon as
Mary heard these words she answered at once:—
"Oh yes, I should like to see a roedeer close. Do
let us come, Bessie."
As soon as the child had spoken, a light of mali-
cious joy spread over the face of the old Witch, and
stepping forward, she laid a hand on Mary's arm.
"Come along with me, come along, my minnikin,"
she said, and drew the child to her at once.
As soon as Bessie saw this, she forgot all about not
speaking, and called out loudly :—
"Oh, don't hurt her! Please, don't hurt her!"
The old woman instantly turned round with a grim
smile, tucked her crutch cleverly under her arm, and
laid her other hand upon Bessie, saying at the same
time:—
"Hurt her, my winsome lassie! No, nor you
-either; but now ye shall both see the fine things I
have to show."
With these words she walked, or rather scrambled,
towards the large rock near to which they had been
standing, dragging the two little girls, who found
themselves, against their will, compelled by some
power stronger than themselves to accompany their
captor. Presently the old woman stopped opposite
the rock, and leaving hold of the Children, lifted her
crutch and struck the rock sharply with it, pronounc-
ing at the same time the words following:—
"Alibabantimanbabblebybee,
Open the door for my chickens and me."


Ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 97
As soon as the old Witch had spoken, a hidden
door within the rock, or rather a part of the rock
itself, as it seemed to the little girls, flew suddenly
open, and disclosed a wide passage, into which the
Witch and her captives entered, and the rock imme-
diately closed behind them just as it was before. The
waters of the loch still rippled softly before the light
breeze that crept up from the sea; the trees gently
shook their leaves under the same pleasant influence:
the sun shone down upon the rocky shore and the
mountain sheep grazing peacefully on the hill-side.
But the wind and the trees and the sun were not felt
nor seen by the two children, who had passed away
from the outer world of sight and sound, and were
buried deep within the recesses of that frowning rock,
where no friendly eye could see and no helping arm
could reach them. And there we must leave the
little girls, for a time at least, and imagine, if we
can, the consternation of their friends when they re-
turned to the shore and found them not.
It was not long after their disappearance that the
boat was sent to fetch them. John Dempster and
their father called their names loudly, and thought at
first that they must have hidden among the fern in
the woods. This idea, however, was soon dispelled,
and gave way to a fear that they might have fallen
into the water. But, on further consideration, this
seemed very unlikely, the loch being too shallow,
close to the shore, for any danger of the kind, and the
children being old enough to take care of themselves.
Then came the thought, the hope, that, tired of play-
ing, they might have scrambled up into the road,
H


98 QUEER FOLK. [iL
which ran through the woods some hundred yards
above the loch, and begun to walk towards home.
When this suggestion also proved incorrect, the dread
of their having been stolen began to creep over the
minds of their friends. Still, it was a curious and
unlikely thing that anyone should be either willing or
able to steal two children of the ages of twelve and ten,
and it could hardly have been accomplished without
something being heard about it. Of course, nobody
ever dreamed that a witch could be concerned in the
matter, for none of the party really believed that there
were any such Beings as witches left, or at least not
those kind of witches who walk with crutches and run
away with little girls. So Mr. Wilson and his friends
set on foot a search, high and low, in every place
which they could imagine, except the right one, and
naturally found no trace whatever of the lost ones.
Grief reigned at Ballaquoich, and the holiday season
was turned into a time of mourning. Two things,
however, remained to be done, and these Mr. Wilson
decided upon doing directly. The first was to adver-
tise in the newspapers; the second, to telegraph for
Jack, not so much in the hope or expectation that he
could be of any use, as for the satisfaction of having
him there, and to console the boy himself, who would
be miserable at being so far away during this family
trouble. Having been informed that an advertise-
ment in rhyme would be more likely to attract public
attention, Mr. Wilson determined to attempt this new
method, and accordingly the following notice appeared
in the local newspapers, and was doubtless received
with some surprise as well as interest:—


ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 99
"Lost—stolen, or strayed—
(We're greatly afraid
'Tis a question of stealing—not straying)—
From Balkquoich glen
Two girls—twelve and ten—
On the shores of the Loch who were playing.—
The first of the same
Responds to the name
Of Bessie—both tall and fair; rather
Dark, Mary, the next.—
Whose loss has perplext
Their sorrowing mother and father.
Whoever brings home
These maidens who roam
Away from their friends, and unguarded,
Safe, sound, and unhurt
(Tho' covered with dirt),
That man shall be freely rewarded!"
This advertisement, though one of a rare and touch-
ing character, produced no satisfactory effect, although
several extremely dirty children, in no way corre-
sponding to their own, were brought on speculation to
the glen, only to increase the sorrow of the relations
of the two girls.
The other step which Mr. Wilson took brought Jack
with very little delay. He was somewhat frightened
at the telegram, which briefly told him that his sisters
had disappeared, and that he must come back to
Ballaquoich at once. But nothing frightens a fifth-
form Eton boy for long, so, although Jack was very
sorry to hear the news, he soon plucked up courage,
and having obtained the necessary leave from his
tutor and the head master, determined to bear with
as much fortitude as he could this interruption of his
school work, and, getting into the train, started off for
Scotland with as little delay as possible.
H 2


QUEER FOLK. [H.
As might have been expected, he found things at
Ballaquoich in as melancholy a condition as possible.
His father had eaten nothing but meat, bread, butter,
and vegetables since the loss of his daughters: his
poor mother had been late for breakfast every morn-
ing, and his small brother Joe had evinced a desire
to shirk his lessons, which could only be attributed
to the effects of grief. Jack's arrival was hailed with
joy by all the suffering family, and the story of the
expedition upon the loch and the disappearance of
Bessie and Mary was told him by each one of them,
until he knew exactly what had happened and under-
stood the precise nature of the affliction which had
fallen upon his home. Being of a warm and affec-
tionate disposition, Jack felt deeply the loss of his
sisters, and all the more so from the uncertainty which
surrounded the subject. It would have been some
satisfaction, though one of a melancholy character,
to know for certain that they were either drowned,
stolen, or devoured; but that their fate should be
shrouded in such deep and impenetrable mystery was
a most uncomfortable and distressing circumstance.
Jack pondered long over all that he had heard, and
employed his first morning in a thorough search of
the locality in which the children had last been seen.
This search was, however, perfectly unavailing, and in
the afternoon of the same day the boy wandered off
up the glen, in a direction directly opposite from that
of the salt loch.
About a mile and a half from Ballaquoich House
there stood by the roadside, on the right hand as
you walked up the glen, a lone cottage, rudely built,


«.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. lor
ill ventilated, badly lighted; and which, if you were a
stranger attempting to enter it, possessed the disad-
vantage of having a doorway so low that you probably
knocked your head violently as you did so, and
having succeeded, found yourself immediately half
stifled with peat-smoke, the escape of which the ab-
sence of any chimney rendered difficult, and which,
therefore, hung about the interior of the building in
a dense body, alike unpleasant to the eyes and
throats of ordinary mortals.
In this abode dwelt a venerable man, who for many
years had carried on the trade of a trapper of vermin
upon the estate of Ballaquoich. The old "Brocker,"
as he was called (from the "brocks," i.e. badgers and
foxes, to destroy which was his trade, legitimate fox-
hunting being an impossible pursuit in that country),
was a man well known to all the people in those
parts. Although the weight of many years was upon
his shoulders, his activity was surprising, and he still
shamed younger men by the manner in which he
climbed the mountains when guiding sportsmen over
the moors, and scaled the highest rocks in search of
the wily ptarmigan.
It was with this man that Jack had struck up a sort
of friendship during the holidays, and had obtained
much information upon sporting matters and the
habits of the heather game. Towards the cottage
of the Brocker, then, he wended his way upon this
afternoon, in the hope of hearing the old man's
opinion upon the question which occupied all his
thoughts at that moment. It so happened, however,
that the Brocker was absent, as people not unfrequently


W2 QUEER FOLK. [n.
are when they happen to be particularly wanted. So
Jack lingered for a few moments by the cottage, nearly
opposite which was a space of flat ground from which
the trees had been somewhat cleared, and upon which
stood another cottage, directly behind which the
ground rose again, and in fact the wood surrounded
it at a short distance on either side.
Jack was looking at this cottage, with no very par-
ticular idea why he did so, when his attention was
suddenly attracted to the figure of an aged female
which appeared at the door, clad in the ordinary
costume of a Highland peasant. There was nothing
in any way remarkable about the figure, but it in-
stantly occurred to Jack that the old Brocker had fre-
quently shaken his head in a mysterious manner when
alluding to the occupants of the cottage opposite his
own; and the thought crossed his mind that perhaps
the person before him might be gifted with some of
those singular powers in the existence of which the
old man had evidently believed. He had not, how-
ever, much time to reflect upon the matter, for the
figure in question elevated its right arm almost as
soon as he saw it, and, looking at him as it spoke,
uttered the following important words :—
"By the salt loch, spirits plan
Mischief to the child of man,
But the sprites of stream and wood,
To the mortals work but good;
Let the sister-searching brother,
Use the one to thwart the other."
Jack stared with astonishment at the old dame who
pronounced these words, but was quite sharp enough


ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOJCH. 103
to perceive at once that they were evidently intended
to give him a hint as to the manner in which he ought
to proceed under existing circumstances. He was
undoubtedly a "sister-searching brother," and sure
enough there was a salt loch, as well as a stream and
plenty of water, at Ballaquoich, but what the sprites
were, or how they were to be found, he had not the
faintest idea. However, as the best way to discover
this appeared to him to be to ask the person who
had just pronounced the mysterious words, he stepped
forward with the intention of doing so, saying at the
same time,—
"If you can tell me a little more, madam, as to
what you have just said about the sprites"
Before he had finished his sentence, however,
the old woman motioned him back with her hand
and withdrew into the cottage, only staying long
enough to say slowly and emphatically as she
did so:—
"Where the reeds and rushes spread
O'er the banks and pastures green,
Oft, by those who dare to tread,
Are the friendly elfins seen."
Jack stopped short at the gesture of the speaker,
and when she had concluded, thought for a minute,
and then exclaimed to himself, "By Jove I she means
the Duck Place!" and so saying, turned on his heel
and walked home, meditating all the while on the
strange event which had just occurred.
When he got home, however, he lost no time in
acting upon the hint which he had received.


io4 QUEER FOLK. [11.
He went down to the loch, got into the smallest
of the two boats which were upon it, and pulled
off without delay to the head of the loch. Here
he entered the river already mentioned, which could
be done without difficulty, except in times of flood,
when it rose with great rapidity, and the boat could
hardly be forced up against the current, whilst the
branches of the overhanging trees also interposed
frequent obstacles to its progress.
Jack, however, had fortunately hit upon a time
when no flood interfered with his advance, and he
made his way up the stream without interruption,
until he arrived at the narrow passage where the
stream wound to the left. Through this passage
he passed, and rowed gently on towards the island
and the Duck Place. Here he relaxed his.efforts,
and paddled slowly up the stream, past the island,
and nearly as far as a boat could go. Then he
rested upon his oars, and looked anxiously around
to see if anything in the way of elves or fairies
was to be seen. There was nothing. He listened
with eager, longing intensity for some voice or
sound, but none fell upon his anxious ear; and he
only heard the laughing ripple of the stream over
the stones, and the distant bark of the colly-dogs
on the mountains, varied by the occasional chuckle
of a cock grouse enjoying himself on the hill-side.
It was a very pleasant afternoon, and Jack was
>ust a trifle tired with his row. So he moored his
boat in a shallow place hard by, and sitting down
on a rug which he had brought with him, determined
to rest for a few minutes before going on shore.


ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 105
The sun was shining brightly, and his rays came
with a flickering, sleepy light through the over-
hanging branches, which disposed anyone in Jack's
position to an unusual degree of drowsiness. So
it is no wonder that the boy very soon dropped off
to sleep under the soothing influences to which he
was exposed.
Ke did not, however, sleep long, for he was roused
in the space of a very few minutes by a sound which
drove away every idea of sleep. Not that it was
by any means a disagreeable sound, but it was one
for which he was so totally unprepared at that time
and place, that to sleep after hearing it was quite
impossible. It was music, and music, too, of a de-
scription not usually encountered upon the banks of
a Highland river. Some one was certainly playing
upon a harp, or some instrument like a harp, and not
only playing, but playing admirably, so that Jack sat
upright, full of delighted attention, and listened to
the music with a pleasure which he had never before
experienced, even when his sister Bessie had played
and sung to him, which she was always ready to do.
This music, however, was something which sur-
passed anything which he had ever heard before,
and the boy afterwards said that he thought he
should never have been tired of listening to it.
Presently, however, it ceased, and in another moment
a figure presented itself to his view, which he sup-
posed to be that of the person who had produced
the delicious sounds. It was the figure of a Lady;
and as far as Jack could see or judge, a lady of
uncommon beauty. But whilst her face and shape


106 QUEER' FOLK. [ii.
were sufficiently visible for Jack to form this opinion,
both were of a substance so misty and indistinct,
that for a moment he hardly knew whether he was
gazing on a living being, or upon a cloud which had
taken a human form for a moment and would
presently melt away. As he gazed, however, the
shape appeared more and more clear and distinct,
and a voice reached his ears, like the soft sighing of
the gentle south wind through the leaves on a sum-
mer's evening. And thus it spoke to the wondering
boy:—
"Comes the child of mortal sire,
Of the river elves t' inquire,
Tidings of the Loved and Lost,—
Has he weighed and counted cost?"
Jack gazed and listened in mute astonishment for
a moment, and then, resolved not to lose a chance
of success by any fault of his own, thus replied:—
'' Kind Lady, I have lost my sisters twain,
And much desire to get them back again—
We've not been happy since they went away;
And, as for cost, my father's sure to pay
All fair expenses, be they what they may."
A scornful smile passed across the features of the
mysterious Being, as she replied to this address of
the anxious brother:—
"Deem not spirits can be bought,
As the children of mankind;
Sisters by a brother sought
Only daring heart may find.
Seek no longer, boy, unless
Fearless courage you possess."


n.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 107
On hearing these words, Jack hardly knew what
to do or say; for having heard that "self-praise is no
recommendation," he did not like to claim for him-
self any special courage such as might be needed
for the work before him. So, after a moment's
hesitation, he thus replied :—
'' I don't know that I'm better than my neighbours,
But this I'll say—I'll do the best I can;
What the conditions are, and what the labours,
Please tell me, gracious Lady—I'm your man!"
The Lady smiled a pleasant smile upon Jack as he
uttered these words, and then spoke to him again, in
the same low, soft voice as before:
"Nerve then thine heart to actions bold,
For where the Loch the forest shades
The Criegan witch, in rocky hold
Concealed, from daylight keeps the maids.
To-morrow, by the salt loch's shore,
Safe counsel of the sea-birds ask;
'Tis thine the maidens to restore,
If well thou bend thee to the task ;—
From honest sea-birds counsel seek,
And when thy listening ear has heard,
To Criegan's witch refuse to speak,
Save with the token and the word!"
As she pronounced these words, the figure of the
Lady appeared to grow gradually more and more in-
distinct, until, as s.he concluded, it faded away com-
pletely from Jack's sight, and he saw her no more,
A sweet strain of music thrilled through the air, such
as he had heard before, and then all was still and


io8 QUEER FOLK. [h.
silent. He sprang from the boat to the shore and
called loudly, but there was no answer; Tie ap-
proached the spot over which the vision had appeared
to hover, but there was nothing; he pinched his arm
violently to assure himself that he was awake, rubbed
his eyes hard for a similar reason, and at last came to
the conclusion that he had really been favoured with
a visit from one of the fairies of the river, and that the
best thing he could possibly do was to follow her
advice as well as he could.
It was too late to do much more that day; and,
moreover, the mysterious Being who had spoken with
him had mentioned "to-morrow" as the time when
he should make the attempt to rescue his sisters.
Evidently, then, the best thing to do was to go home
as soon as he could and have a good long night's rest
before entering upon so serious a business. Accord-
ingly he again entered his boat, pushed her off into
the stream, and made the best of his way back to the
loch, and thence to the little pier at the foot of the
lawn to which the boats were fastened at night.
After some deliberation, he had determined not to
say a word to his father or mother about the strange
occurrences of the afternoon. It was probable that
they would tell him he had been dreaming, and dis-
believe altogether in the reality of the vision; or, if
they partly believed it, they might think that the risk
he was about to run was greater than his chance of
success, and might either forbid him to make the
attempt, or insist upon his being accompanied by
others, whose presence would probably spoil all hope
of success, since sea-birds were unlikely to come near


ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 109
a number of persons, and the Witch herself, whoever
or whatever she might be, would hardly show herself
to grown-up people unless she had the power to injure
them—in which case she was better unseen. So Jack
said nothing about the matter, but went early to bed,
resolved to follow the directions of his strange friend
at the time and place which she had mentioned.
History has not recorded the manner in which he
passed the night, but as he was young and healthy,
and not much given to lie awake, it is probable that he
slept during the greatest part of it, in spite of the
adventure before him and the somewhat singular
circumstances in which he was placed. At all events,
he rose the nejjt morning fresh and vigorous, and
shortly after breakfast set off down the road to the
salt loch. It was a walk of some two or three miles,
and as he went he meditated much as to the manner
in which he should proceed when he got there. Sea-
birds were not tame as a rule, and unless impelled
to do so by a kind fairy, might decline to come within
speaking distance of him, although he had wisely left
his gun behind to avoid frightening them by the sight
or sound of this weapon, which had already proved
fatal to several of their race.
The more he thought, however, the more certain
he became that he must leave everything to chance,
and having come to this conclusion, he gave up thinking
upon the subject, and walked steadily forward until
he reached the place where the party usually em-
barked in the big boat. This was opposite "the
weaver's cottage," a solitary cottage where an honest
old couple resided, carrying on their trade in quiet


no QUEER FOLK. [n.
contentment, and unmolested by witch or wizard,
although in such close vicinity to the loch.
Here Jack paused, and doubted whether he should
go down to the shore, or keep the road, which ascended
almost immediately after passing the cottage, and ran
at a distance varying from fifty to a hundred and fifty
yards from the loch until it descended again to the
shores of the latter about a mile farther on, beyond
the spot at which the little girls had been left and
lost. He decided to go to the shore first, and walking
forward stood quite close to the water, looking over it
at the mountains on the other side. As he did so, he
saw a brood of wild ducks floating lazily on the water
near the opposite bank, and wondered whether it was
from them he was to receive the information he so
much desired. Then there came a sea-snipe dart-
ing by, and this bird Jack eagerly watched in like
wonder, but it made no observation and seemed intent
upon its own business. Then there came the cry of
the curlew, and several of these birds came wheeling
about, and alighted on a patch of sand uncovered by
the water, towards the middle of the loch, but they
also said nothing which the boy could understand.
Next there came a cormorant, flying straight up the
loch with a grave and pre-occupied air, as if it had
the affairs of the world upon its shoulders. It stretched
out its neck as it flew, and looked wise enough to have
told everything that Jack wanted to hear, but never a
word spoke the cormorant. It flew on to the favourite
rock opposite the lovely woods of Farcaldine, where
it joined several of its companions, who were sitting
there as still as if they were inanimate beings, gravely


H.] THE WITCH OF. BALLAQUOICH. in
pondering over things in general and, most likely, fish
in particular. Still no bird had given sign or word to
Jack, and he was really beginning to doubt whether
he should sit down or walk on, or go back, or call out
to the next bird that passed, when an event happened
which settled the matter for him.
By came a Seagull, with the peculiar cry which such
birds make, wheeling in the air, now dipping down
and touching the water, and now darting upwards
again with sudden velocity. As the bird came near
the shore, it made a dart towards the spot where
Jack stood, and passed within a yard or two of his
head. As it did so, it said, in an audible voice, and so
clearly that Jack could hear every,word, though it
was all in a moment of time—
"When you speak, above your head
Hold a stick from ruined shed;
Be not by her threats deterred—
'Benemote' is the magic word."
And so the bird passed on. Jack had no longer
any doubt as to what he should do. Well did he re-
member that at the spot where he and his friends had
held several picnics, and at which his sisters had been
last seen, there stood an old tumble-down ruined shed,
which was evidently that to which the worthy Seagull
had alluded. "Her threats" doubtless referred to
the Witch by whom his sisters were held captive, and
now that he knew the word of power, he had no fear
of the result. As the sea-gull did not return, he re-
traced his steps to the road without delay, and pushed
on as fast as he could until he reached the spot where
*


112 QUEER FOLK. [n.
he had once or twice before left the road to descend
to the picnic place already mentioned. He plunged
into the wood at once, and made his way through
fern and bush until he reached the' shore. As he
approached the shed in question, in order to search
for a stick, plenty of which lay strewn about beneath
the roof of which they had formerly been a part, he
observed a Curlew wheeling in the air above his head,
and just as he reached the shed, it stooped in its flight,
almost perched upon his shoulder, and whispered to
him something which caused him to start back in the
greatest astonishment.
Unfortunately for the interest of this part of our
story, Jack never could recollect the exact rhymes in
which the bird spoke. That this speech was delivered
in rhyme can, however, be hardly doubted, since crea-
tures under magic influences rarely condescend to
prose.
Be this as it may, the information was clearly and
fully conveyed to Jack, that whilst the word confided
to him by the sea-gull would, judiciously used, protect
him from immediate personal injury, and probably
secure his admittance to the place wherein he would
have to search for his sisters, three other words were
necessary to his final attainment of the object of his
expedition. These words, to be used one after the
other according to the difficulties by which he might
find himself surrounded, were solemnly whispered in
his ear by the Curlew, who, having thus discharged
the errand on which it had apparently come, screamed
more wildly than ever, and flew off across the salt
loch to rejoin its comrades.


ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 113
Jack's astonishment did not last long, for he had by
this time made up his mind that he would have to
encounter several surprising things before he could
succeed in recovering his sisters. Stepping boldly
forward into the shed, he laid hands upon a stick
without further delay, and had hardly done so when he
became conscious of the presence of another person.
An old woman stood near him on the shore, whom
it is unnecessary that I should again describe, since
she was the same individual who had already en-
countered the sisters of the boy. She regarded him
with a curious expression of countenance, rather like
that of an angry cat facing a dog no bigger than her-
self, and doubtful whether she shall spit and fly at his
eyes, or turn tail and run up the nearest tree for
safety.
Jack looked back at her with a calm and steady
gaze, but, well knowing the danger of his position,
said not a word until he should be first addressed.
He had not long to wait, for having apparently made
up her mind what to do, the Witch accosted the boy
with the polite inquiry, "What brings you here so
early to-day, my young master? You have neither
gun nor rod; what game is that you think to take
this morning?"
Without a moment's hesitation Jack boldly con-
fronted the speaker, raised his stick above his head,
and exclaimed in a firm voice, though with a heart
that beat fast from excitement, " Benemote! I seek
my sisters, and demand them at your hand!"
No sooner had these words been uttered, than the
countenance of the old woman changed to one filled
I


H4 QUEER FOLK. [n.
with mingled rage and fear; she trembled violently-
all over, shook her crutch at the boy, and after the
delay of an instant, during which some inward emotion
appeared to check her speech, she exclaimed, in a voice
tremulous with wrath, "Your sisters, forsooth! Ay,
ay! I know whence this shaft comes, and that you
must be taken where you wish, since you know the
Word of power. But you know not all as yet, stripling,
and we shall see what we shall see before the salt-loch
powers are thus defied—come on, then, come on!"—
and turning round, muttering to herself with great
rapidity as she did so, the Witch advanced to the rock,
which she struck with her crutch as before, exclaiming
at the same time :—
'' Alibabantimanbabblebybee,
Open the door for my chicken and me."
The rock immediately opened, and the old woman
stepped in; but just as Jack was about to do so, the
thought struck him (for he was by no means a dull
boy) that if he allowed himself to enter after the
Witch had called him " my chicken " without protest
on his part, she might possibly acquire some power
over him which it was most undesirable that she
should possess.
In the act, therefore, of stepping through the open-
ing, he said, in a steady voice, "Benemote! I am
nobody's chicken, but come of my own free will to
seek my sisters."
As he spoke, his companion cast back an evil
glance at him over her shoulder, but said nothing,
whilst the rock instantly closed behind them. They



ii.] THE WITCH OF SALLAQUOICH. 115
were standing in a wide passage apparently leading
into the very heart of the mountain. It was arched
overhead, and on either side a calm soft light was shed
from above, though where it came from Jack could
not see, and indeed did not trouble himself to inquire
at that moment, being occupied with other thoughts.
It was not a bright dazzling light, but rather like the
rays of the moon, though it could not have proceeded
from the moon, unless certain moonbeams had acci-
dentally got into the cave and had been imprisoned
there for the purpose of lighting it. It might have
been magic, and it might have been something else,
but it enabled Jack and his companion to see before
them for a space of some dozen or fifteen yards, at
the end of which a huge and heavy curtain hung across
the passage, shutting out from view all that was beyond.
When she arrived at this point, the old woman
turned round and scowled fearfully at Jack, who
would certainly have trembled at the sight, only that
it occurred to him that it could do no possible good to
do so, and might probably do the reverse. So he said
nothing, but looked calmly at the figure before him
until she was pleased to speak, which she presently
did, making her address more impressive by re-
curring to the solemnity of rhyme:—
"Rash boy, within th' enchanted rock you stand,
And trust to word in mouth and stick in hand.
Be wise in time: Retire! 'tis not too late!
Proceed—and you will only tempt your fate."
Jack did not give a second thought as to the reply
which he should make. He felt very certain that if
I 2


n6 QUEER FOLK. [tl.
she could have destroyed or driven him away, and
defeated his object in coming to the place where he
was, the old Witch would certainly have done so
before; and therefore he argued that the powers
which protected him must be too strong for her. If
so, it was not likely that they would suffer him to be
injured, provided he obeyed the instructions he had
received, and acted with proper caution. So he
replied in the following manner to the speech to
which he had just listened:—
"I never should have ventured here,
In such bad company as Fear:
Let 'Benemote' tame thy haughty pride,
And push the curtain on one side."
Scarcely had he spoken when the Witch gave a
short scream of anger, pushed the curtain aside, and
entered into a room beyond, closely followed by
Jack. The sight that now met his eyes was certainly
most unexpected and alarming. He and his com-
panion were apparently walking upon dry land. At
least Jack felt no wet, and would have had no doubt
about the matter, except for the extraordinary
creatures around him, and the manner of their ap-
pearance. -The air (if air it was, for it looked just
like water) was full of fishes, and other water
creatures, the most disagreeable to be encountered,
unless, in the case of some of them, they had under-
gone the preliminary process of cooking. Huge dog-
fish came swimming at the boy, as if determined to
taste what he was made of, for they showed their
teeth with the most savage and threatening look;
N


ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 117
gigantic skates, with faces like human babies, opened
their hideous mouths, and gaped at him in a man-
ner to make his blood run cold. Awful-looking eels
twisted and curled themselves about in hideous and
unnatural shapes; crabs—not respectably dressed
crabs, which Jack had seen upon the festive board at
home, but repulsive, mis-shapen, wicked-looking crabs,
—crawled close to his feet; whilst lobsters, who as
yet knew nothing of salad, and were innocent of the
cheery colour which such creatures assume after they
have been put to their proper and legitimate use,
showed their claws in such a manner as might have
easily terrified a nervous individual.
The Witch proceeded to the middle of the room, and
then lifted her crutch and sang out aloud in a dismal,
croning tone:—
"This mortal child our power defies,
Ye salt-loch monsters all, arise!
He knows the Word which can unlock
The secrets of our ancient rock:
He enters it—our souls to grieve,—
He enters it, but shall he leave?
Ye salt-loch monsters, pull him down,
And let the daring mortal drown!"
And as she sang, she shook her crutch, and pro-
nounced her last words in a yell of fury. In an
instant Jack felt the air grow damper, as if about to
turn to water. He saw the faces and appearance of
all the creatures around him become more and more
hideous; and he became conscious that the word
which the Seagull had given him had probably ex-
hausted its power in obtaining "for him entrance into


n8 QUEER FOLK. [il.
the interior of the rock, and that the time had now-
arrived when he must make use of the further
mysterious secrets confided to him by the Curlew.
He felt that he had no time to lose; and, in fact, the
air was so fast changing to water that he could
scarcely lift his stick above his head. He managed
to do so, however, and at the same time pronounced,
in tones which rang loudly through the chamber,
the words of magic import—" Mutton chops!"
The effect was instantaneous. The air became
dry and pure again immediately; the light, which
was of the same character as that in the passage
shone more clear and bright than before; the excited
fish retired on all sides, and appeared to fade away
out of sight altogether; and the angry Witch re-
mained in the middle of the room, feebly moaning
over the discomfiture of her attempt to rid herself
of her troublesome visitor.
Following up his advantage immediately, Jack lost
no time in thus addressing his disappointed com-
panion :—
'.' By the power of 'Mutton chops,'
By the words which doors unlock,
By the stick which nothing stops,
Show the secret of the Rock!"
The Witch, glaring frightfully with impotent wrath,
hobbled, more slowly than before, across the room,
on the opposite side of which was a large door
studded with huge silver nails, at which she stopped,
and turning to Jack, said :— .
"Thou hast a power I never saw before;
Then, stripling, take the crutch, and strike the door."
■


n.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 119
"Not if I know it!" said Jack, omitting the cere-
mony of rhyme, and giving a knowing wink of the
eye at the old woman. He had heard too many
stories of the wily tricks of the Beings with whom
he had to deal, not to feel pretty sure that some
dodge was intended in this request, and that if he
had taken the crutch and struck the door himself,
something bad would certainly have happened. So
with the above concise and intelligent remark, he
pointed to the door again, with an unmistakeable
air of determination not to be turned from his
purpose. Upon this the old woman, with another
scowl and a groan of anguish, struck the door, mur-
muring to herself some words which Jack could not
hear.
Open flew the door, and in walked the Witch into
another room, the floor of which appeared to be of
massive silver, whilst the walls were hung with the
most beautiful silver and blue tapestry, and the
ceiling was most elaborately and richly ornamented.
Nothing dreadful or horrible appeared in this room,
but what did appear certainly filled Jack with the
most extreme surprise. All round the room were
low sofas very near to the wall, which were dressed
with covers of blue and silver, very pretty to behold.
And upon these sofas were seated as many as a
dozen ladies, as far as Jack could see at first,
although he discovered his mistake upon closer in-
spection. They were mermaids—regular, indubitable,
palpable mermaids—and were engaged in such occu-
pations as might be supposed to interest persons of
their sex and station. Some were lazily flapping


QUEER FOLK. . [iI.
their tails over the side of the sofa on which they
sat, and yawning as if they were heartily tired of
their rock-existence and longing to go to sea; others
were singing in sweet voices, as if endeavouring by
this laudable amusement to while away time which
was heavy on hand; whilst one or two were busily
employed in fitting on new scales to their tails, and
otherwise attending to those useful appendages.
Jack, as you may well suppose, was transfixed with
surprise at the sight of these strange creatures, and
would gladly have made civil inquiries of them as to
their general habits, and their reasons for sitting in a
circle within a rock, when it would be so much more
pleasant for them to be plunging about in the waves,
or sitting outside in the sunshine, or occupying them-
selves in some of the usual amusements of a well-
regulated mermaid. But he had no time to make
inquiries, for no sooner was the old Witch within the
room than she waved her crutch on high, and, casting
an evil glance upon the boy, spoke as follows:—
"Daughters of the briny wave,
Whom by magic art I keep
Hidden in the gloomy cave,
Far from pastimes of the deep j
Would ye once again be free—
Free to sport on ocean shore ?—
If this stranger slain should be,
Ye are free for evermore!"
Immediately on hearing these words, the mer-
maids rose at once from their seats, uttering wild
cries, which even in that hour of danger fell upon
\
V


ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 121
Jack's ears with a cadence singularly melodious.
Their long hair fell over their fair shoulders in lux-
uriant tresses, their eyes sparkled with wild excite-
ment, and they stretched out their arms towards
their intended victim with an eagerness which would
have made most persons in a similar position feel
exceedingly uncomfortable. Incommoded by their
tails, however, they made no such frantic rush, as
might otherwise have been the case; and Jack was
not quite sure how they would have advanced upon
him had nothing interfered to prevent them. For,
thinking it useless to await the result, he had imme-
diate recourse to the second syllables of magic power
which had been imparted to him by the curlew.
Drawing himself up to his full height, he gravely
pronounced the words, " Malt and hops," which were
scarcely out of his mouth before the mermaids, with
a low, despairing wail, sank back upon their seats,
and, covering their faces with their hands, wept tears
of sorrow as for some hope for ever lost.
The conduct of the old Witch was somewhat dif-
ferent. Without a moment's hesitation she squatted
down on the floor cross-legged, laid her crutch de-
liberately over her knees, folded her arms across her
chest, and gnashed her teeth furiously at Jack, with
grimaces which by no means added to her personal
beauty. This proceeding, however, had little or no
effect upon the young Etonian, who perceived that it
betokened a knowledge of defeat upon the part of
his adversary, and he was all the more encouraged
thereby. For a moment or two he said nothing, and,
indeed, was rather doubtful what he ought to say,


122 QUEER FOLK. [n.
and whether he had not better remain silent. But
observing immediately in front of him another door,
thickly studded with enormous golden nails, and
feeling certain that beyond this he was bound to
penetrate in order to accomplish his mission, he
determined to address to the Witch such a command
as should compel her to open it. Raising, therefore,
his stick above his head, and looking her full in the
face, he said :—
"By the power of 'Mutton chops,'
By the strength of 'Malt and Hops,'
By the might which never fails,
Ope the door of golden nails!"
As he finished, the old Witch slowly arose from her
crouching position, and shuffled towards the door,
moaning and whining to herself in a dismal tone as
she advanced. Three times she struck upon the door
with her crutch, and at the third stroke it flew open,
when such a glare of light burst upon Jack's eyes that
he was nearly blinded. Everything inside that door
appeared to be made of bright gold, and so dazzling
was it, that for a moment the boy could see nothing.
Then the old Witch moaned out in a humble, sup-
plicating tone:—
"Since thou hast the greatest might,
Enter first—it is thy right"
But Jack, still on his guard, was too wise to obey
this request. Had he done so, he would probably
have found that the door closed behind him, and he



ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH, 123
would have been shut up for ever within the bosom of
that magic rock. This was by no means his intention
or desire, so, with a bow to the strange old woman, he
politely replied:—
'' Not so shall our positions be reversed—
In good society 'tis—' Ladies first.'"
And as he spoke, the old Witch, finding her tricks of
no avail, entered the next room through the golden-
nailed door, closely followed by her visitor.
This room was apparently of gold and nothing else.
The floor, walls, and ceiling presented an appearance
of one sheet of pure gold, which really produced the
most extraordinary effect. In the very middle of the
room was a round stool, also entirely of gold, which
stood in the centre of a triple circle. Engrained in
the gold there were three rings—one of pearls, one of
emeralds, and one of diamonds,—all stones of prodi-
gious size, exactly matching in size and shape, and
s"et closely together. In the centre of the last of these
three rings, which was that composed of diamonds,
stood the above-mentioned stool, upon which Jack
fixed his eyes as soon as he entered the room. On
the farther side of the room he now perceived that
the gold sheet before him was tapestry and not paper
upon the wall, as he had at first supposed, for he
fancied that he saw it move. He had not, however,
much time to make observations of any kind, for no
sooner had the old woman entered the room through
the door, which closed behind her of itself, than she
darted to the stool, and scrambling upon it, turned
upon the boy a face full of the most diabolical spite
>


124 QUEER FOLK. [iI
and fury which can be imagined. With one hand she
raised her crutch high above her head, whilst with the
other she pointed tauntingly at Jack, and, elevating
her voice to a shrill scream, which betokened an
amount of rage which the boy had seldom, if ever,
witnessed in human being, she thus poured forth her
fury and venom :—
"Wretched son of mortal sire,
Wouldst thou tempt immortal ire?
Criegan's ancient Power defied,
Doth thy feeble might deride.
Power which can be known and felt,
Long in Criegan's rock hath dwelt—
Shall the loch-sprite, free and wild,
Be subdued by southern child?
No i within the magic ring,
Thee and thine at last I bring;
Know, thou poor presumptuous fool,
Soon my words, from magic stool,
Shall thy petty strength confound
And immure thee under ground,
Till the hour when Criegan's will,
Yield to something stronger still."
She finished, and without leaving the boy time
to reply, began to wave her crutch wildly in the air
and to pronounce the dreadful words of doom which
would for ever destroy the wretched mortal over whom
she had now, as she hoped, certain and complete
power. Jack could never remember more than the
first word, which he declared to be "Banberrykopti-
chamballyboxticon," a word well-known as one of
fearful import among witches and their friends. But
whether this pleasant little word was or was not that
pronounced by the Witch it is impossible for me to
X


ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 125
say. Certain it is that she never completed her in-
cantation, for before she had gone any further the
bold boy looked her straight in the face and pro-
nounced, in a loud and confident tone, the word
"Whisky-toddy."
I am unprepared to say whether the effect of this
upon the person to whom it was addressed was or
was not an effect usually produced upon other persons
who may not have laboured under the suspicion of
witchcraft. I have been told that upon others besides
witches, in the North Countrie, the word has a certain
power; and Jack always said that the curlew had
hinted to him, in dark, mysterious language, that
nothing Scotch could withstand the charm. Be this
as it may, it proved wholly efficacious under the cir-
cumstances which I am now relating.
The old woman spun round three times with great
velocity upon the stool, as if it were a music-stool
upon which she was turning for a wager, and then
dropped heavily upon the floor like a log. Elevating
his stick once more, Jack strode boldly towards the
gold curtain, for such it was, on the other side of the
room, and once more pronounced the magic word of
power. Instantly the curtain drew back of itself, and
displayed a sight which filled the heart of the boy
with mingled emotions of pleasure and astonishment.
Seated upon the floor of an inner room, which floor
was apparently covered with white satin, were as
many as a dozen children of different ages and sizes,
all busily employed upon an occupation the nature
of which Jack did not at first sight discover. A closer
inspection, however, proved it to be that of sorting


QUEER FOLK. [n.
opened widely, and Jack and the children saw at once
a sight which filled them with surprise, not to say
momentary alarm, for Jack himself hardly knew the
effect which would be produced by his own words.
The cave beyond the door appeared to be half-full
of water flowing in upon them in a manner which
might shortly prove highly disagreeable. Indeed, the
divisions between the outer rooms seemed to have
entirely disappeared, and the salt loch appeared to be
slowly flowing into the cave in an uninterrupted
stream. Instinctively the children loosed their hands
and fell back, accompanied by Jack, into the chamber
of precious stones, whence they witnessed the extra-
ordinary events which followed.
Floating on the stream, with hair dishevelled, and
with wild but joyous looks, came the captive mermaids,
set free from their slavery and confinement within the
gloomy cave by the magic words which the boy had
uttered. Tossing their beautiful arms above their
heads, and flapping their tails so furiously as to splash
the walls right and left, and give the place the appear-
ance of a sea under the influence of a storm, they came
on and on, until they had entirely surrounded the old
Witch, who sat moaning and muttering, with a woe-
begone expression upon her wrinkled visage. The
water seemed to become deeper and deeper, but
although it flowed up to the entrance of the chamber
in which Jack and the children were standing, not a
drop of water passed beyond the place where the
curtain had hung. As the mermaids swam up to and
round the old Witch, she trembled visibly, and tried to
raise her crutch as if to re-assert her former power


II.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 129
over them, but failed miserably in the attempt. They
closed in upon her, slowly but surely, and as they did
so their sweet voices rose and fell in a kind of weird
chaunt which filled the cave with a melodious echo.
And such-like words as these they sang:—
"Long time within thy cave we've stayed,
By magic force restrained;
Thy cruel mandate we obeyed,
And all in vain complained.
From rippling loch and ocean wave,
Debarred by cruel will, '_
None came the mermaidens to save,
None braved the Witch's skill.
But see! 'tis changed! accept thy doom
Decreed by higher powers;
Long hast thou kept us in thine home,
Now come and visit ours!"
As they sang, they came closer and closer to the
wretched old woman, until at last one of them seized
hold of her by the shoulder and gave her a severe
shake. This example was immediately followed by
another, and then by a third; and although the old
Witch raised a dismal yell, it had not the smallest
effect upon her persecutors. They seized her, they
pulled her here and there, ducked her frequently and
remorselessly in the water, and scrambled for her as
if she were a football given them to play with. Then
turning round with one accord, they swam away out
of the cavern, still trifling and sporting with their
unhappy victim. Slowly they retired, and with them
the water flowed out of the cave, and carried with it
mermaids, Witch, and all the other Beings which
Jack had seen in the outer rooms, leaving the interior
of the rock quite dry.
K


i3o QUEER FOJJC. [!t •
As soon as he saw this, Jack told the children to
follow him without delay, which they accordingly did,
and found themselves before long outside the rock,
and upon the same spot where Bessie and Mary had
first encountered their enemy. Jack lifted his stick
once more above his head, and pronounced the solemn
word, "Benemote !" upon which the rock closed with
a hollow, ringing sound, and opened no more.
For a few moments the children stood still, silently
gazing upon the salt loch before them. All was quiet,
calm, and peaceful, and there was no sign left of any of
the stirring events which had just passed. Indeed, the
children could scarcely believe that it had not been
all a dream. There was only the faintest ripple on the
water, as a soft southern breeze swept across it, and
neither foam nor sound of mermaid or other sea crea-
ture was to be seen or heard. The wild ducks swam
lazily in the creek on the far side of the loch, a large
heron was lazily flapping his way across to his home
in the heronry of bonnie Farcaldine, and on the dis-
tant rock in the open water sat the sentinel cormorants
as usual. But there was nothing to tell the story of the
mermaids' triumph and the Witch's downfall, nothing
to disclose the last fate of the latter, or to indicate
what that fate had been.
The children, however, had little doubt that their
enemy had been drowned before she was taken from
the cave, and that, whether drowned or not, the mer-
maids would take very good care that she never came
back to trouble innocent children again. So, after
they had stood still a few moments, they thought the
best thing they could do was to go home.


ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 131
Of the other children I cannot tell you as much as
I could wish. They had been in the cave and in the
Witch's power long before Bessie and Mary came there,
and seemed very glad indeed to get out. But who or
what they were, and what became of them, I could
never discover, and therefore shall say nothing. Bessie
and Mary of course went straight home with their
brother, to whom as they walked along they related
as much as they could recollect of their adventures.
It seemed, however, that a kind of dreamy forget-
fulness had fallen upon them after their entrance with
the old Witch into the rock, and that all they remem-
bered was that she led them through to the chamber
of precious stones, made them sit down where Jack
had found them, and muttered over them some curious
words which obliged them to remain where they were,
and to join the company of children already there in
the occupation in which they had been engaged.
The Witch had visited them daily, and bestowed
upon each child a bun or cake of a singular shape and
taste, which kept life in them, and served as breakfast,
dinner, and supper. No wonder, therefore, that the
poor children looked pale and thin, and that the
servants of Ballaquoich thought they would never
have finished bringing in fresh plates of bread-and-
butter and oat-cakes. For this was the first repast
of the children when they reached their home, and
had accomplished the task of giving and receiving
innumerable embraces to and from their delighted
parents. For the first time in his life, little Joe hadn't
a chance with his sisters, and such a tea as they ate
was probably never heard of before or since.
K 2


132 QUEER FOLK. [n.
Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, as may well be supposed, were
somewhat anxious to leave so dangerous a neigh-
bourhood with as little delay as possible. They there-
fore determined to do so in a couple of days' time, and
meanwhile resolved to eschew the salt loch and to join
in no more expeditions with their neighbours. Jack,
however, although anxious that his sisters should run
no more risks, still cherished a strong curiosity to
know more of the mysteries of the locality, and
accordingly sallied forth next day with his gun, and
walking down to the loch near which the house stood,
got into one of the boats and pushed off.
When he was near the other side of the loch, he
observed several curlews hovering about, and settling
on the rushy ground near the water. Now, although
Jack was very grateful to the individual curlew
who had imparted to him the valuable information
which had enabled him to enter the rock and over-
come the old Witch, he knew well enough that this
had been no common bird, and he still cherished a
great desire to shoot at least one curlew, which he
might have stuffed, together with a cormorant, a
heron, and other trophies of his skill which he already-
possessed. He therefore landed on the opposite side
of the loch, and tried his best to stalk one of
these birds, having securely fastened his boat to
the bank. It was all in vain, however. When he
was fully eighty yards off, the birds rose with a
little scream and flew further and further away;
and although one of them seemed rather tamer than
the others, he soon found that it was a hopeless
task which he had undertaken.


Ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 133
Weary and disappointed he returned to his boat,
and getting into it, was about to push off, when his
attention was suddenly arrested by the sight of a little
old man sitting upon the stump of a tree and looking
steadily at him. ■ The little man had a merry, round
face, not unlike a large plum-pudding with eyes in it,
though there was something of a wicked look, too,
about the eyes, and Jack knew at once that he was in
the presence of something uncanny. Before he could
say or do anything, however, to his very great surprise
the little man broke out into a song, which he sang
with a merry voice, though somewhat cracked, and
with the drollest of gestures, wagging his head to and
fro in the most facetious manner, and then placing his
forefinger against the side of his nose, and leering at
Jack with the most curious expression. And thus
ran the song:—
'Come listen, jovial gentlemen, a tale I'll tell to you,
About a boy who went on shore, a-chasing a curlew;
His gun was in his hand, as close and closer still he drew,
Oh, was not he a lucky chap to bag a fine curlew?
The birds were feeding quietly within the youngster's sight,
He stole upon them warily, not wishing to affright;
Oh, was not this a clever boy, so well the way he knew
To hunt and fish, play cricket, and to stalk the poor curlew?
He thought that he should manage it, he crept along so sly,
The luckless bird could never know an enemy was nigh;
Oh, yes! he was a clever boy, like him were very few,
To jump and run, and row and shoot, and stalk the poor curlew!


134 QUEER FOLK. [n.
He crept along so warily—he was so very keen,
He thought that he could see the bird, and not himself be seen;
So tight he grasped his gun in hand, and confident he grew,
That very soon he'd have in bag a beautiful curlew!
But though the boy he was so sharp, and eke so good a shot,
The curlews whom he wished to shoot, they thought they'd rather not;
So while he still was far away, up in the air they flew,
And left the boy upon the shore without his fine curlew!
VI.
So now, ye jovial gentlemen, take warning by my tale,
Don't aim at the impossible, because you're sure to fail;
And I'll advise this luckless boy to aim at efforts new,
And try to shoot a simple goose, and not a wise curlew!"
And as the little old man finished his song, he gave
a shrill scream of discordant laughter, snapped his
fingers in a defiant manner at the boy, and then
springing to the ground, turned head over heels back-
wards three times without the smallest hesitation, and
bringing himself up suddenly, sat cross-legged upon
the ground and chuckled fearfully.
Jack was completely bewildered. Who or what
this strange Being might be, whence he came and
what was his object, it was impossible to conjecture.
Clearly, however, he meant to chaff, which is what no
Eton boy can be expected to stand without giving it
back again. So, after a moment's hesitation, Jack
looked the strange little fellow straight in the face,
and remarked —
"Very good song for a beginner; and as for the
tumbling, it's quite professional."


Li.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 135'
The words were scarcely out of his mouth, when
the little man, twisting his arms and legs together in
the most extraordinary manner, came bounding along,
for all the world like an India-rubber ball, right down
to the edge of the water, and then, untwisting himself
suddenly, addressed the boy as follows:—
"As to twisting and to turning,
Few there are my equals in it,
Would you, then, improve your learning,
I can teach you in a minute.
Fortune's coy, but since you've caught her,
Of her gifts now haste to plunder—
Come with me to Criegan water,
I will teach you deeds of wonder!"
Jack heard; but he had too lately experienced the
strange doings of Criegan creatures not to be fully on
his guard, so he did not for one moment entertain the
idea of accepting the little man's invitation.
"Not if I know it," he replied, with a knowing wink.
"I think not: not exactly—but, pray would you like
a glass of whisky-toddy?"
At these words the countenance of the little old
man changed at once: he cast a glance of mingled
hatred and fear upon Jack, and for an instant re-
mained rooted to the ground as if unable to move;
then, turning slowly round, he shuffled off, moaning
and groaning, and disappeared among the trees.
This had all occurred at the lower end of the fresh-
water loch, and as soon as Jack had seen his strange
visitor safely off, he determined to go up to the Duck
Place and take a farewell look at it before leaving
Ballaquoich altogether. Being convinced that in that


136 QUEER FOLK. [11.
friendly locality there could be no danger for his
sisters, he persuaded them to accompany him, and
together they rowed up the stream until they reached
the same place where Jack had been so mysteriously
informed as to the fate of his sisters. Then he moored
his boat as before, and began to show Bessie and
Mary exactly where he had seen the figure of the
beautiful Lady who had told him of the Witch of
Criegan and enabled him to find her abode.
"Oh how I wish the Lady would come now I" cried
Bessie. "I should so like to thank her for being so
kind."
"Yes," replied Jack, in a reflective tone, " so should
I: but I don't know how to get her to show herself,
unless we could all fall asleep as I did when I was
here before."
"I say, Jack!" here interposed Mary (who was
a sharp young lady for her years, and often made
clever suggestions), "I say, Jack! do you think
the Lady would come if we were to ask her in
verse?"
"A capital thought!" cried her brother: "suppose
you try, Mary, since you proposed it?"
"Well," said the little one, " I am not sure that I
can, you know, but at all events I'll try."
So she faced the spot on which the Lady had
appeared to Jack, and said in a grave voice, after
a short pause :—
"Kind Lady, since again we're free
(I mean, my sister here and me),
We wish to thank both you and Jack,
Whom you employed to get us back—


ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. 137
Dear Jack is here: and well we know
(For he has made it very plain),
Tis here you deign yourself to show—
Pray, Lady, do so once again!"
As Mary ceased speaking, to the surprise and de-
light of the three children, the same low, sweet sound
of music which Jack had heard before came stealing
through the trees again, and presently the same
shadowy form appeared, becoming more and more
distinctly visible as the children gazed upon it.
The Lady smiled sweetly upon them, and presently
spoke in the soft, soothing voice which Jack so well
remembered, and which his sisters thought perfectly
beautiful:—
"Grateful hearts are welcome ever
To the spirits of the wood,
Who by constant kind endeavour
Foil the evil, shield the good.
Freed by courage of a brother
From the power of Criegan's Dame,
Should ye meet with such another,
Fortune might not be the same;
If a witch or dwarf accost ye,
Here whilst ye may still remain,
Silence keep—lest those who lost ye
Once, might lose ye once again!"
Taught by experience, the children knew very well
that this was good advice, and required no persuasion
to accept and determine to keep it. The thought
crossed Jack's mind at once that this warning about
dwarfs was quite necessary after his morning's adven-
ture, and he doubled not that the little man whom he
had met was one of those dangerous animals, probably
some relative of the old Witch herself. But Bessie
s


ii.] THE WITCH OF BALLAQUOICH. . 139
No foe, sweet child, to thee and thine;
And when ye reach your southern home
Let kind remembrance hither roam."
She spoke, and, even as the words left her lips, her
figure grew more and more indistinct to the eyes of
the children, and gradually faded away with the smile
still upon her face. Then the sweet sounds of the
music once more arose, and fell upon the ears of the
three listeners with a softness akin to melancholy.
They sat silent for some little time after the dis-
appearance of their spirit-friend, until Jack roused
himself from the dream in which he had been indulg-
ing, and told his sisters that they must be thinking
of going home. They could scarcely tear themselves
from the spot, however, without one more nearer look
at the place where the Lady had appeared. Accord-
ingly, they landed on the shore, and walked in among
the trees and bushes, looking carefully around them
as they did so. But they saw nothing. The wind
softly sighed through the tops of the trees; the fish
now and then jumped in the still water of the smaller
loch which bordered on the Duck Place, and a wood-
pigeon darted from a high tree at a little distance
from the spot where they were standing. But the
sounds of the music had ceased, and with them the
last signs of the presence of a Being from the world
of elves. Slowly, then, the three children retraced
their steps to the boat, and turned her back, towards
the loch. It was their last look at "the Duck Place,"
which had been the scene of many pleasant expedi-
tions, though none of such strange and unusual excite-
ment as the two last.
<


140 QUEER FOLK. [u.
The boat moved slowly round the island, down the
stream, through the narrow opening and into the
canal, before either of the young people said any-
thing, so much were their thoughts occupied with all
the curious things which had lately happened to them.
Once in the canal, however, their tongues were loosed,
and during the whole of the way back to the house
they talked these matters over. It was a marvellous
series of adventures, certainly, which had befallen
them. The Witch, the elfin Lady, and the Dwarf were
not the kind of creatures to which they were used at
home, and the first and last were (so the three agreed)
highly objectionable individuals. It was extraor-
dinary, too, that the magic-dealing folk near the sea
should be hostile to the human race, whilst those who
dwelt farther inland were the reverse; and altogether
the children came to the conclusion that Scotland, or
at least that part of it where they had been staying,
was a strange country, and that its inhabitants would
be hard to live with or to deal with unless "whisky-
toddy" was always at hand.
Beguiling the way with this conversation, they
pushed the boat along down the canal to the loch,
and across the latter to the little wooden pier on the
lawn of Ballaquoich. There they landed, and found
their father and mother waiting for them, with the
news that everything was now finally arranged for
their departure the next morning. The evening passed
away very quickly, and the sun arose upon the day
which was to see the Wilsons for the last time at
Ballaquoich. It was a fine morning, and the view as
they drove along the valley and looked back, was


142 QUEER FOLK. [n.
come by "whisky-toddy " the day before, that he was
afraid to come again in contact with one who had
that magic charm at his command. However this
may be, he came not, and nothing "uncanny" troubled
the Wilsons during their homeward journey. Safely
they reached home, and were not sorry to see once
more the familiar things and faces.
But among the pleasant pastures of the Southern
County wherein they dwell, amid the fruit and flowers
and luxuriant foliage of the garden of England, Bessie
and Mary cast back thoughts now and again to the
wild scenery where they gained such a novel and
strange experience; and Jack, too, thinks not un-
pleasantly upon the same subject. Fain would he
see again the elfin Lady; and no sounds that he has
since heard does he count equal to her music: but
neither the sight or the sounds have been vouchsafed
to him again.
It may not be always so. Fond as the strange
creatures of whom I have told may be of rocks and
mountains, moor and loch, yet if they are not alto-
gether devoid of taste, they must find something to
love and admire in the home scenery of the sunny
South; and though stern crags and wild scenery may
better suit the Witch and Dwarf, sure I am that the
happy elves who make our fairy rings are preferable
to either, and those children who have kind and
loving hearts may at any time meet with a pleasant
adventure with elves and fairies without having to
travel so far north as the abode of the .Witch of
Criegan and the lovely Lady of Ballaquoich!


III.
THE PIG-FACED QUEEN.
In a very old castle in a part of the world which
shall for good reasons be nameless, there resided, at
a period of the world's history which it is unnecessary
to mention, a certain venerable Baron. His family
was at least as old as his castle, and in those benighted
times, when blood and birth went for more than they
do now-a-days, he was accordingly much respected.
The Baron himself was an eminently respectable
person. His portly appearance, long grey beard, and
stately demeanour commanded attention wherever he
showed himself, and he held up his head boldly
among the magnates of the land.
Indeed, he had a perfect right to do so, for, over
and above the claims which he might have founded
upon the antiquity of his family and the gravity of
his personal appearance, he had the additional ad-
vantage of being the possessor of large landed estates.
He might stand upon the lofty battlements of his
ancient castle and gaze for miles over his own terri-
tory. Look north and south, east and west, far and


144 QUEER FOLK. [ill.
n
wide lay the lands which owned his sway, and no en-
croaching neighbour marred the pleasure of his view
or interfered with his unbroken domain.
The Baron of Grumblebuff was indeed a potent
chieftain, and his lightest word was law to hundreds
of obedient vassals. His prowess in battle was, more-
over, undoubted, and men of his own rank in his
country spoke highly both of his courage in the field
and his wisdom in the council chamber. His horses
were famous for their speed and enduring qualities;
his cellars were well stocked with the choicest and
rarest wines; his riches were sufficient to supply every
want which could cause a pang in the human heart,
and everything seemed to have combined in order to
secure and promote the happiness and prosperity of
this favoured being.
And yet, with all these advantages at his command,
the Baron of Grumblebuff was not happy! Like
others who have lived and died before him, all the
external good which had fallen to his lot could avail
nothing against the internal grief with which he was
afflicted. To the outer world he might endeavour to
appear calm and unconcerned: those who saw him in
his retirement knew but too well how different was
the real state of his mind, and how profound was the
melancholy with which he was oppressed.
Nor, indeed, was the cause far to seek. The Baron
of Grumblebuff had a Baroness, and their union had
been blessed by three daughters. Clara, Bertha, and
Mathilde of Grumblebuff were three charming maidens.
Their features were perfect, their figures exquisite,
their voices harmonious, their talents remarkable,—


ill.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 145
their dispositions delightful,—but the colour of their
hair, which fell in dense masses over their beautiful
shoulders, was of a bright staring red. It was useless
to call it yellow; folly to pretend that it was auburn;
absurd to pronounce it golden. It was unmistakeably
red, and in spite of all dyes and washes resolutely
remained so.
Now the Baron of Grumblebuff had the greatest
horror of red hair. His own had been raven black, and
his wife's very nearly of the same hue: why or where-
fore the young ladies should have been so differently
gifted—why they should have, for the first time in the
annals of a continuously dark-haired family, displayed
a colour so entirely contrary to the custom and tra-
dition of their house, was a problem which greatly
puzzled their parents, and to the Baron was, indeed,
a source of intolerable grief. It was bad enough to
have no son; that, however, was a misfortune which
might in some measure be remedied by the selection
of suitable husbands for his daughters; but that the
latter should, one and all, be endowed by nature with
hair of this particular colour, was an infliction which
to their father was perfectly unendurable. It deprived
him of his pleasure by day, it robbed him of his rest
by night; it sat upon his soul like a leaden weight; it
interfered alike with his appetite and digestion, and
bid fair to end prematurely that which might have
been a long and useful life.
As the girls grew up, various remedies were tried,
all of which, however, were equally ineffectual. Each
year seemed only to intensify the objectionable colour,
and they arrived at the respective ages of seventeen,
L


146 . QUEER FOLK. , [in.
eighteen, and nineteen, apparently without the slightest
chance of any change in the direction so much desired
by their paternal relative. Their mother, it is true,
was somewhat less anxious about the matter. She
would have been glad, indeed, if her husband's wishes
could have been gratified, and she much disliked the
result of his disappointment, which so greatly affected
their domestic happiness. But devotedly attached to
her children, she found in their general beauty, their
docility, and the variety of their talents, no incon-
siderable compensation for the short-comings of their
hair; and if left to herself, it is not impossible that
she might even have come at last to such a state of
mind as would have enabled her to discover beauties
in the latter. Nevertheless, she found it necessary to
follow the lead of her husband in so purely a domestic
matter as the colour of their children's hair, and
therefore, like an obedient wife, she not only followed
his example, but persuaded herself that he was per-
fectly and undoubtedly right in his view of the case.
It may easily be supposed that this feeling—which
some might even call prejudice—on the part of their
parents was by no means agreeable to the young
ladies themselves. Fondly attached to both father
and mother, they endeavoured by every means within
their power to please and satisfy them. Their con-
duct was in every respect exemplary. Clara relieved
her mother of the cares of house-keeping, and kept
the household in excellent order; Bertha superin-
tended the dairy with remarkable success; whilst
Mathilde's poultry were the admiration of the whole
neighbourhood.


iii.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 147
In their lighter hours, they strove to enliven their
mother, and cheer their father's heart, by music and
singing. Clara's performance on the harpsichord was
something marvellous; Bertha had the voice of a
nightingale; and Mathilde accompanied herself on the
guitar with surprising skill. Every effort which affec-
tion could suggest did the young Baronesses make to
render themselves as beloved as they really deserved
to be by the parents whom they so fondly worshipped,
But alas! all was in vain. There was, indeed, no
positive unkindness on the part of the Baron and his
wife; but they manifested a constant—and to their
children's fancy, an increasing—coldness, which was
terribly trying to the sensitive dispositions of the three
damsels. Again and again they tried to win the love
of which their tender hearts stood so much in need,
and again and again they were met in the same
manner. Nor, indeed, was the cause hid from them.
They knew but too well that the unfortunate colour
of their hair had to answer for all, and they lamented
it the more because it was owing to no fault of their
own that they found themselves placed in such
unhappy circumstances.
At last this state of things grew so intolerable that
the three sisters took solemn counsel together as to
the best course they could pursue to effect some im-
provement in their condition. Mathilde suggested that
they should cut off each other's hair close to the roots,
and each wear a wig of a colour which might be more
agreeable to their parents. This, however, was a pro-
ceeding to which there were many objections. In the
first place, the risk of cold was serious; in the next,
L 2 y


Hi.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 149
bright colour of their hair might be deemed a recom-
mendation instead of a disadvantage. Or should
they fail to discover a suitable resting-place, it ap-
peared to their young and sanguine imaginations that
a journey through the world in search of adventures
would be a pleasant and agreeable variety, after their
dull routine of home duties and the cold return to
their warm affections of which they had so greatly to
complain. It might be, too, that their absence would
have the effect of re-awakening parental love; that
their father and mother would feel and appreciate the
value of their daughters when the latter were no longer
with them ; and that upon their return at some future
time they would be clasped in fond embrace by the
authors of their being, and enjoy at last that full
measure of love for which they had so long and so
anxiously pined. So they very quickly made up their
minds to follow the advice of their eldest sister, and
run away from the castle as soon as possible.
The question then arose as to the manner in which
the plan had better be carried out. Mathilde sug-
gested that they should put on their thick walking-
shoes and waterproof cloaks, and set off just as they
were. But the prudence of the elder sisters forbade
the adoption of such a proposal. Unused to walks of
more than ordinary length, they would probably make
little progress in a day's journey, and be very speedily
overtaken by those whom the Baron would certainly
send in pursuit as soon as their flight had been dis-
covered. It would be far better either to ride or drive.
There was a nice little pony carriage always at their
service, which they could order without the slightest


"■ •. -. ■
150 QUEER FOLIC. [in.
suspicion, and in which, if one sat behind, all three
could be conveyed without difficulty. They remem-
bered, however, that even in this vehicle their progress
would be but slow, the country being hilly and the
roads none of the best. Moreover, as ladies of rank
seldom drove out without a servant in attendance, it
was just possible that suspicion might be aroused
by their sallying forth unattended in their pony
carriage ; and under all the circumstances they came
to the conclusion that it would be preferable to depart
on horseback.
This was the- more easy to do, since the young
Baronesses were in the habit of riding about together,
in the vicinity of the castle, upon three steeds which
had been especially provided for their use. Clara had
a white palfrey, Bertha a brown and Mathilde a chest-
nut horse, all three of which were strong and service-
able animals, and moreover of such good and gentle
dispositions that they would follow their young
mistresses here and there, eat out of their hands, and
readily obey their call. Upon these animals, there-
fore, the sisters determined to commence their flight,
and to take their journey through the world. They
resolved to start one morning, before their parents
came down to breakfast, by which means they
would get a good start, and as they were in the habit
of breakfasting early, it was most probable that their
absence would be thought little of until luncheon
time at the soonest, so that they would have time to
go some way on their journey before they were
missed.
They therefore ordered their horses over-night,


iii.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 151
telling the servants that they were going for an early
ride; and before the inmates of the castle were half
awake the three sisters had mounted at the stables
and ridden forth from the halls of their ancestors.
They had formed no particular plan of operations
for the future, nor had they fixed upon any direction
in which to wend their way. In fact, beyond the
neighbourhood of the castle itself, where it would of
course have been impossible to remain undiscovered,
they were quite ignorant of the locality, and really
wandered forth as into a strange country.
Nevertheless, they were in good heart and in
tolerable spirits, considering the new and possibly
dangerous course upon which they were about to
enter. They rode boldly down the hill upon which
the castle was built, entered the large forest which
extended almost to the foot of the aforesaid hill, and
were soon hidden from sight of the castle dwellers by
the dense foliage of the trees.
The road was none of the best, and the sisters
could therefore only proceed at a slow pace, but they
pushed resolutely on, until at length they emerged
from the forest and found themselves upon a large
common, at the farther side of which another forest
appeared ready to receive them. They cantered gaily
over the common, and continued the same pace, when
they found that a wide green track led them into the
wood beyond, along which they proceeded some way
without interruption or adventure of any kind.
Suddenly, however, Bertha's horse, which was a few
yards in advance of the others, shied so violently, that
although the young lady was an excellent horsewoman,


152 QUEER FOLK. . [in.
she had the greatest difficulty in keeping her seat.
Fortunately, however, she succeeded in doing so, and
on looking around for the cause of the animal's alarm,
the sisters perceived an object which excited at once
their surprise and compassion. It was the figure of an
aged man, apparently in the last stage of misery and
starvation. His clothes were scanty, and although
the chill blasts of winter had not yet swept away the
brown autumnal leaves which still trembled upon the
branches which their summer beauty had adorned,
his venerable limbs evidently shivered with cold, and
his teeth chattered as he addressed his humble appli-
cation for alms to the noble damsels. His tottering
steps were supported by an oaken staff, and as he
stood beneath the shadow of the forest trees, he pre-
sented a pitiable and woe-begone appearance, such as
might have touched the hardest heart and inclined
the sternest spirit to softness and pity.
As he stammered out his appeal to their benevo-
lence, the sisters thought that they had seldom beheld
an object so palpably requiring the aid of the charit-
able, and each felt at once in her pocket for the means
of relieving the aged sufferer. Alas! the search was
vain! In the haste and hurry of their flight, not one
of the three had remembered to bring her purse, and
not a single sixpence could they muster between them.
Clara found in her pocket a silver thimble and three
gingerbread-nuts; Bertha had an apple and a ball of
worsted; whilst Mathilde could only discover a hard
biscuit and a needle-case. What was to be done? It
would be cruel indeed to pass the old man by without
a gift of any kind, after having excited his expecta-



iii.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 153
tions by stopping in order to search for the money
which they supposed they had about them. Yet to a
beggar, and one, moreover, of the masculine gender,
neither a needle-case, a ball of worsted, nor a silver
thimble seemed likely to be of much use, and to offer
him an apple, a hard biscuit, or gingerbread-nuts
might possibly be deemed insulting.
Still, his appearance was so sad, and hunger so
visibly depicted upon his face, that the sisters re-
solved upon the latter course, which in fact was all
the more generous on their part, inasmuch as they
had not the slightest idea in the world when, where,
or how they should be able to obtain anything for
themselves to eat, and although their stock of pro-
visions was very small, it would have sufficed to allay
the pangs of hunger for at least a short time. Their
tender hearts, however, were touched by the appear-
ance of the aged stranger, and they hesitated not to
offer him all they had.
"Here, sir," said Clara, "take these nuts. I thought
I had money, but, alas! both my sisters and I are
penniless! You seem hungry, perhaps these may
comfort you a little."
With these words she handed him her three ginger-
bread-nuts, and her sisters speedily followed her
example. The old man received the giftr. with grate-
ful delight, and murmured his thanks as he eagerly
devoured the food.
Casting a pitying look behind them, the three young
ladies rode boldly forward, interchanging as they went
words of sympathy for the venerable being whom
they had just relieved. They had not proceeded


154 QUEER FOLK. \ya.
* 1 ■ ■ J ■
above a mile farther when their attention was at-
tracted by another object, even more pitiable than
the first. Bowed down and bent nearly double with
age and rheumatism, an ancient woman was wearily
dragging her way along the green track. As the
sisters rode up, she accosted them with sorrowful
words and supplicating gestures, inviting their atten-
tion to her forlorn and miserable condition. Words,
indeed, were scarcely needed to tell them that which
was at once apparent to the most careless observer.
The scanty red cloak which fell over the shoulders of
the aged crone afforded but a poor protection from
the wind or rain, whilst her other garments were so
thin and ragged that it was a wonder they held
together at all.
The tender hearts of the young Baronesses melted
at once, and they answered the imploring looks and
prayers of the poor suppliant without a moment's
delay.
"Here, good woman," said Clara, holding out her
silver thimble, "take this. Alas! I have no money,
but by the sale of this thimble no doubt you will be
able to obtain food, and perhaps something towards
protecting you better from the weather."
"And take this ball of worsted," added Bertha,
blushing as she spoke at the smallness of the gift.
"It is not much, I know, but it may perhaps be useful
to you."
"My needle-case, too," cried Mathilde, "is quite at
your service, and I only wish I could give you some-
thing better."
With these words, the sisters bestowed their gifts


Iii.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 155
upon the old woman, who received them with mur-
mured thanks and blessing, in the midst of which the
givers left her, kindly smiling upon her as they rode
forward on their journey.
Before they had gone much farther they began to
feel somewhat hungry, a feeling which they soon found
to increase more and more. For some time they said
nothing to each other on the subject, being well aware
that no food was to be had, and each wishing to con-
ceal her hunger from the others, lest they should be
distressed and dispirited. At last, however, they
could stand it no longer, and all three simultaneously
broke out into the same exclamation—" Oh, dear!
how hungry I am!"
Nor was it unnatural that this should be the case.
Here were three delicately-nurtured damsels, used to
have breakfast, luncheon, five-o'clock tea, and dinner
every day of their lives, who had started off without any
regular breakfast, and had now been riding until past
their usual luncheon hour without anything to eat, and,
what is more, without any apparent prospect of getting
anything. No wonder, then, that they all three felt
very uncomfortable, and for a moment heartily wished
that they were sitting round the table in the old
Grumblebuff dining-room, with mutton chops at one
end, in the silver dish heated by a lamp beneath, and
probably a roast chicken at the other end, with
mashed potatoes and other vegetables only waiting
to be eaten.
If, however, such a wish for a moment occupied the
mind of any or all of the sisters, you may be certain
that it was speedily banished. The courage of their


156 QUEER FOLK. [ill.
race sustained them, and the pride of their ancient
family forbade them to feel or display regret at the
first inconvenience which their plan had entailed upon
them. Still, it must be remembered that courage of
race and pride of family, though doubtless excellent
things in their way, do not feed hungry people,
or satisfy healthy appetites with food. Therefore,
although they enabled the sisters to bear up bravely
against the pangs of hunger for some time, the moment
arrived when Nature asserted her rights, and with one
common assent Bertha, Clara, and Mathilde owned to
each other that they could bear it no longer.
Pulling up their horses at a spot where the road
was crossed by a broad but shallow streamlet, they
regarded each other for a few moments with faces of
woful anxiety, whilst tears, forced from them by the
painful nature of the occasion, slowly trickled down
their beautiful cheeks.
"To think," said Clara, "that it should come to
this! All our fine plans of running away and earn-
ing our own livelihood to end by our starving in the
forest."
"Indeed," mournfully remarked Bertha, "it is very
different from what we expected. I begin to wish we
had never left the castle."
"Yes," added Mathilde, "or at least that we had
had the sense to take some provisions with us!"
And the three sisters gave vent to a simultaneous
groan.
To their infinite surprise, the sound was re-echoed
from the other side of the stream. Not, indeed, by a
groan exactly, but by a cheerful kind of chuckle: yes,


lit] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 157
an unmistakeable chuckle, as if some one who had
nothing better to do was enjoying their distress and
making merry at their unfortunate situation.
The sisters raised their eyes together, and gazed in
the direction from which this sound, so much at vari-
ance with their own feelings, seemed to proceed. Upon
the opposite bank of the streamlet, leaning carelessly
against a sapling, they at once perceived the person
to whom the interruption was due. It was a woman,
—at least, it had the form and dress of a woman down
to the waist, and a neat enough dress, too, the effect
of which was not spoiled by the well-made trousers in
which its legs were clothed. The feet were small, and
encased in remarkably well-fitting boots; from the
shoulders downwards everything was as it should be,
to the eyes of the beholders, but the extraordinary
thing was that upon a fair neck of proper length and
dimensions appeared nothing more nor less than the
head of a pig! As if by way of pun upon itself, it
had a pork-pie hat on, which rather improved its ap-
pearance; but there it was, as much the head of a pig
as anything you ever saw; and the sight of such an
unwonted appendage to the body and neck of a
woman filled the sisters, as you may imagine, with
. the utmost amazement. •
Their wonder was not diminished when the creature,
whatever it or she was, waved a lily-white hand in
the air, and accosted the astonished sisters in a voice
perfectly human, and by no means unpleasant.
"Come over, young ladies, come over," she said;
"I have been waiting for you this long time, and I am
sure you must be wanting your luncheon."


ill] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. • 159
she wore in her snout, the Pig-faced Lady at once
replied:—
"Yes, my dears, luncheon will be quite ready for
you by the time we get home." And with these
words she gave a shrill whistle, much resembling that
with which London porters summon cabs from the
street, and in another instant a man appeared, dressed
in brown-holland petticoats and leading a white pony,
upon which the strange Being vaulted, carelessly
struck the man a blow across the face with her riding-
whip, and bidding him in a haughty tone to "follow,"
cantered forward on the track, calling upon the young
Baronesses to accompany her. This they did in won-
dering silence for about half a mile, when their com-
panion turned sharply to the right, and after another
hundred yards or so, rode into an open court before
a good-sized stone-built mansion.
Here she shouted loudly, and two or three men and
boys came hurrying up, all of whom wore brown-hol-
land garments like the first, and possessed the ordi-
nary heads of human beings. These paid the most
abject deference to the Pig-faced Lady, who now
directed the sisters to dismount, which they accord-
ingly did, and giving their horses to the grooms, fol-
lowed their conductress into the house, which she
entered with the evident air of an owner.
They found themselves in a large hall paved with
marble, from which doors opened right and left, to
one of which the Lady advanced, and throwing it
open, exclaimed, in a loud voice—
"Here, my children, the visitors have come!"
Bertha, Clara, and Mathilde following close upon


160' QUEER FOLK. . [ttt.
. - "- ■"■■ • ;;s^,
their leader, entered the room after her, and beheld a
sight which filled them with astonishment. Seated at
a long table, extending nearly the whole length of a
very long room, were from fifty to a hundred ladies,
well-dressed, neat, with figures more or less elegant
and well formed, but trousered and pig-faced, every
woman of them! Opposite each was placed a small,
deep, silver trough, in which some kind of broth or
soup had been served, upon which they were evidently
in the midst of making a hearty meal.
At the summons of their Queen (for such she
appeared to be) the company all started up—some
hastily withdrew their snouts from the troughs in
which they were already deeply dipped—some quickly
passed their napkins over their faces—some stroked
their bristles—some put their ears tidy; but all started
up as fast as possible to acknowledge the authority of
the speaker and to welcome the visitors.
"Here, Bessie," said the former, to a neat-looking
girl with a delicate bloom upon her skin which made
even her pig-face interesting, "make room for these
three young ladies by you, and order the hot soup
at once—come, sit down, my dears, and feed with
the rest of the Court." And with these words she
motioned the sisters to seats.
The Court had been sitting upon benches—deep,
comfortable, cushioned benches with backs, and arms
between each seat, and the blushing Bessie, by whom
three seats had apparently been reserved for the new-
comers, invited them to be seated, in tones as far re-
moved as possible from the squeal or grunt which you
might have anticipated from her personal appearance.


162 QUEER FOLK. [ill.
After a short and awkward pause, during which they
looked wistfully, first at each other, and then at the
soup, and then at each other again, hunger proved
stronger than politeness, and Clara, in clear though
trembling accents, faltered out the words—
"Might I ask for a spoon?"
The poor child need not have been alarmed. People
are generally blind to their own defects and imper-
fections, which, indeed, sometimes appear the very
reverse to those who possess them.
So it was in this case, and instead of being offended,
the pig-faced ladies were evidently filled with feelings
of a very different nature. Casting pitying looks at
each other, and interchanging little smiles of con-
scious yet commiserating superiority, they received
Clara's remark with the utmost courtesy, and the
Queen, who had remained standing near the door,
approaching at once towards the three sisters, re-
marked in a friendly voice—
"Spoons! yes, to be sure, my dears, there are
spoons in plenty, and they shall be fetched. Why,
Bessie! you forget that our visitors are not yet gifted
as we are. But never mind, my children, all will be
right in time;" and, as she spoke, she smiled affably
upon her visitors; but her words, it is needless to say,
filled the young Baronesses with the deepest alarm.
Was it possible, then, or perhaps probable, that they
should be reduced to the lamentable condition of the
poor creatures amongst whom they were sitting?
Would they be condemned to lose those features
which (as experience and friendly comment had told
them) were by no means defective? and would each oi


ill.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 163
their faces be replaced by the ugly and degrading
countenance of a pig? Was this a usage of the new
country they had entered, and would it be made a
condition of their residence therein? Would sorcery
be employed, and should they be doomed to this (to
them) dreadful fate? It would be a thousand times
worse than red hair, and certainly their parents would
be by no means likely to love them any the better for
the change.
This penalty for running away would indeed be
heavy, and their sorrows increased tenfold. Such
thoughts passed at one and the same time through
the brains of Clara, Bertha, and Mathilde, and under
ordinary circumstances none of them would have been
able to eat a mouthful after such an idea had once
been put into their heads. But as the circumstances
were not ordinary, their appetites keen and the soup
particularly good, they could not refrain from falling-
to heartily as soon as the spoons were brought; and
they made a capital meal. Meanwhile the Queen had
seated herself in an arm-chair at the top of the table,
where she fed plentifully out of a golden trough, and
appeared to enjoy herself exceedingly. When the
soup was finished, clean troughs followed with bread-
pudding and treacle, after which acorns were brought
in by way of dessert, which the general opinion of the
Court appeared to consider a great delicacy.
The repast having been brought to a close, the
Queen, rising from table, beckoned the sisters to
follow her to the drawing-room, whither she was also
accompanied by twelve of her principal ladies. Seat
ing herself upon a comfortable sofa, and directing the
M 2


164 QUEER FOLK. . [ill
sisters to occupy another close by, she then began to
address them upon the subject of their visit.
"You must know," said she, "as perhaps you have
already guessed, that you are now in the country
of the pig-faced women, or, as its lovers and inhabi-
tants prefer to call it, 'the Dominion of Woman.'
In some countries, no doubt, there are women not
blessed with our peculiar development, and we know
that from one of these you come. In fact, it is very
probable that in certain parts of the world there may
even be a prejudice against pig-faced women, but that
can only be where men (who are proverbially pig-
headed themselves) rule, and where consequently all
is misery and confusion. Here, as I have already
told you, an entirely different system prevails. Man
is reduced to his proper position of inferiority.. We
use him, as we do the horse, or, to take a nearer
analogy, the ass, and all the management of affairs,
public and private, in my kingdom, falls upon that
sex which is by far the best adapted to undertake it.
In this country I can offer you an asylum, at once
happy and secure. In fact, as I have taken a fancy to
you, I do not think I shall be able to part with you
again, and the directions which I shall give you will
enable you with as little delay as possible to become
in every respect similar to the rest of my subjects."
As the Queen ceased speaking, the feelings of the
three sisters may be better imagined than described.
The allusion which her Majesty had made to "direc-
tions" which she intended to give them was, indeed,
calculated to awaken in their minds feelings of the
most profound distrust and dread. Directions given


in.J THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 165
by royalty would probably be pressed upon those for
whom they were issued in a manner which it might
not be easy to resist, and if compliance was to be
followed by a transformation terrible and repugnant
to women of ordinary form and feature, it was impos-
sible to regard their future with composure.
As, however, there appeared no immediate neces-
sity to reply to the Queen's remarks, the sisters said
nothing, but respectfully inclined their heads as her
Majesty concluded, and silently waited for what
might happen next.
Presently the Queen resumed her discourse.
"Rome," she remarked (with the air of one who
had made the discovery then for the first time,) "was
not built in a day, neither can you, my young friends,
expect to attain to the happy state of pig-facedness
without some little time and patience. You will,
however, immediately commence the process which is
requisite to lead you to this desirable consummation.
In each of your rooms you will find vials properly
labelled, containing the medicines which it will be
necessary for you to take, in order that the weak-
nesses, mental and bodily, which are falsely called
feminine, may be removed, and you may be able to
join your sisters in this country in that which is the
only true 'Woman's mission,' namely, the suppres-
sion of man. You will not find the medicines by any
means unpleasant. 'Fright's Elixir' may make you
feel a little sleepy, but 'Miss Hen-Pecker's cordial'
will obviate any ill effects, whilst 'Professor Egotist's
drops,' though pungent and bitter, and generally
leaving a disagreeable taste in the mouth, are most


166 QUEER FOLK. . [ill.
efficacious when you have once brought yourself to
swallow them."
Having thus spoken, the Queen desired two of her
ladies to conduct the sisters to the rooms which had
been prepared for their reception, and as these all
communicated one with another, they were able to sit
down and take counsel together as soon as they were
left alone. Upon the table of each room, sure enough,
were three bottles containing the medicines of which
the Queen had spoken, and which appeared much like
ordinary physic. In each room was an iron bedstead,
a table, a chest of drawers, a bath and washing-stand,
two chairs, a boot-jack, and a coal-scuttle. But the
oddest thing was the nature of the pictures which hung
upon the walls, which all represented men in some
situation of subordination to the superior sex. In one
print a man was blacking a woman's boot, whilst she
was regarding him with an unmistakeable air of pig-
faced contempt; in a second was depicted a man
carefully but diligently rocking a cradle, whilst a
woman was writing, surrounded by blue-books of a
formidable appearance; a third showed a noble
specimen of pig-faced superiority, standing with her
foot upon the neck of one of the inferior gender;
whilst in a fourth was a man crouching meekly before
another superior being, who was bestowing upon him
a shower of blows with a riding-whip which she held
in her hand. In other pictures, men were knitting
and sewing, mangling and ironing, washing and scour-
ing, whilst women were engaged in those nobler and
more intellectual pursuits befitting their stronger
minds and more powerful wills.


Hi.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 167
The sisters stared around the room for some little
while without speaking, and then (as is sometimes the
case with young ladies who have not been fully trained
in the ways of pig-facedness) all began to speak at
once..
"Well! did you ever ?" was their first remark, after
which they unanimously agreed that they never did,
and forthwith began a conversation in which surprise,
uncertainty and dread, were mingled. They were
presently interrupted by a knock at the door, imme-
diately followed by the entrance of one of the Queen's
ladies, bringing a paper of directions to be followed
by the sisters. These directions related to the times
at which the respective medicines were to be taken,
and appointed two of the Court to be present and
witness the performance, as the omission of a single
draught or pill (so said the lady who brought the
paper) might do infinite mischief. At the expiration
of three days the sisters might hope to experience the
effects of the medicine, and might possibly find them-
selves actually transformed into the image of pig-faced
blessedness. Then they would be allowed, and in
fact expected, to abandon their former dress so far as
concerned the covering of their legs, and to assume
that garment which in the civilized countries of the
world has always been considered the badge of
superiority.
The sisters heard and read the directions with
trembling anxiety, which was not diminished when
they were informed, that, before descending to supper
at six o'clock, the two ladies who had been appointed
to the task would wait upon them and administer to


i68 'QUEER FOLK. [in.
each twelve drops of the celebrated elixir. On hearing
this piece of news, they looked at each other in blank
dismay, and seemed to feel pigs' bristles already
growing out of their tender cheeks. Heartily did
they now wish that they had never run away from
home, which, indeed, any boys or girls who ever do
such a thing are quite certain to wish before long. It
was, however, too late ; there they were, and they must
make the best of it. This, however, was not easy.
When people are affected by the receipt of startling
news, we are apt to observe that what is called a
"change of countenance" comes over them, but no
news, good or bad, ever produced such a change as
that with which the sisters were now threatened,
and the whole thought of their hearts was bent
upon one object—how to escape from their impend-
ing doom.
They had no long time for consideration. Scarcely-
had the large clock in the stable-yard sounded three-
quarters after five, when a knock at their door pre-
ceded the entrance of two of the Court ladies, who,
advancing with well-meant smiles, threw the sisters
into deeper anxiety as to their future, by the hideous
grimaces which they presented to their view.
Proceeding to the table, one of the two immediately
uncorked the bottle libelled "Fright's Elixir," and
deliberately measured twelve drops into a small wine-
glass. She then presented it to Clara, and invited her
to swallow it at once. The poor child hesitated at
first, and felt a trembling sensation creep over her as
though she must either cry or faint. Recovering her-
self, however, by an effort of her noble nature, she


ill.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 169
looked first to the right hand and then to the left, and
then, with a graceful curtsey, addressed the attendant
lady in these words :—
"Pray, madam, excuse my compliance with your
wishes; but being perfectly in health, I have really
no occasion whatever for medicine, which may perhaps
prove hurtful to my system."
On hearing these words both the Court ladies took
a step backwards, and regarded Clara with looks of
astonishment.
"Good gracious me!" exclaimed the first. "Was
ever such a thing heard of? Not take the medicine
which the Queen has ordered for her!"
"Why," cried the second, "you poor silly child,
how do you ever expect to become properly pig-faced
like the rest of us if you neglect the usual course of
operations?"
Clara shuddered as she meekly replied :—
"But I really don't want to be pig-faced."
"Not want to be pig-faced!" screamed both the
ladies in one breath. "Oh, the little idiot! Oh, the
weak-minded little fool! The Queen must be told
directly."
And then the first lady laid her hand upon Clara's
arm in a kind and gentle manner, and said, in a tone
of pity—
"You don't know what is good for you, my dear,
that is very plain; but fortunately for you, there are
other people who are wiser, and the Queen will have
her orders obeyed; of that you may be certain. Let
us hope, however, that your sisters will be more
tractable."


170 QUEER FOLK. [nn
So saying, she turned to Bertha and Mathilde, and
offered to each in succession the glass which con-
tained the elixir. These young ladies, however, having
no desire whatever to become pig-faced, and being,
moreover, encouraged by the example of their elder
sister, resolutely refused the proffered draught. The
worthy Court lady threw up her eyes and elevated her
snout in surprised indignation.
"What an obstinate family !" she cried. "It is but
too plain that they have inherited all the vices of
their father, whoever he may have been, and that
their poor mother must have been a woman of no
force of character whatever. Well, however this may
be, the Queen must be informed, at all events, and
that immediately."
So saying, she quitted the room with her com-
panion, and left the sisters alone.
As soon as this had occurred, the young Baron-
esses looked at each other in dismay and then burst
into tears, bewailing the sad prospect before them.
They had not much time for lamentations, however,
before the door was again thrown open, and the
Queen entered, followed by a number of her ladies.
It was easy to see that her Majesty was in no very
good humour—in fact, without any great departure
from the truth, she might have been said to be in a
towering passion.
"What is this that I hear?" she cried in a loud
voice; "three young runaways, whom I have kindly-
received into my kingdom, and to whom I have
offered all the blessings of pig-faced happiness, to dis-
obey my commands upon the very first day of their
s


iii.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. ■ 171
visit? Surely they must have the perverse and stub-
born folly of males concealed beneath a female skin!
Speak, then, presumptuous girls, how is it that ye dare
to slight my power and to refuse the wholesome medi-
cine with which I have directed you to be supplied?"
"May it please your Majesty," replied Clara, meekly,
"we are very sorry to appear disrespectful, which is
far from our intention, but we think our relations
would not like us to change our heads altogether,—
and—and—and—we should rather not be pig-faced."
"Rather not be pig-faced!" shouted the Queen at
the top of her voice; "hoity-toity! whom have we
here, that sets herself up above the laws of the land?
Much you cared for your relations, either, when you
ran away from home! Your heads must have been
turned when you did so, and will now be much the
better for being changed altogether. In this country
women are all equal among themselves, and how can
this be if you are allowed to remain with heads entirely
different from the rest of us?"
"But," urged Clara, timidly, "if all are equal, how
is it that your Majesty is Queen over the rest?"
"Hold your tongue," exclaimed the Queen, sharply:
"the superior sex does not argue by logical rules.
All are equal except the Queen and such as the
Queen chooses should not be equal, nor does it be-
come a mere stranger and a silly girl to argue with
royalty. Will you take the elixir, or won't you?"
"I must really beg to be excused," said Clara.
"And you?—and you?" asked the angry Queen,
turning hastily to the other two, who each joined in
Clara's refusal.
^


172 QUEER FOLK. [lit
"Then," said her Majesty, in solemn tones, "you
will have yourselves to thank for the unpleasant con-
sequences. The power of woman is not to be defied
even by her own sex. Seize the recreants!"
As she spoke she turned to her attendant ladies,
several of whom instantly seized each of the sisters,
and, in spite of their struggles, soon succeeded in over-
coming their resistance, and held them so tightly that
they could not move. Then the Queen approached
Clara, seized her by the nose, and, with the assistance
of an attendant, obliged her to open her mouth, whilst
her Majesty slowly dropped the twelve drops of elixir
into her mouth.
As they trickled down her throat, Clara felt that
she was lost: nor was the sensation removed when her
tormentor, bidding the attendants not to relax their
hold, changed bottles, and thrust down her throat a
dessert-spoonful of the cordial of the famous Hen-
Pecker, which was so extremely disagreeable to the
taste that the poor young lady could scarcely swallow
it. There was, however, no alternative, and the same
process was presently gone through with Bertha and
Mathilde, much to the disgust of both. The three
sisters were then released, and the Queen prepared
to leave the room. Before doing so, however, she
addressed the sobbing victims of her wrath in the
following terms:—
. "You have now had your first doses, my obstinate
young friends. In three hours' time you will have
your drops administered in the same manner, unless
you have come to your senses by that time, and con-
sent to take them quietly. Three times a day for the


174 QUEER FOLK. . [m.
Upon this the old man at once addressed Clara in the
following words:—
"I see your tears, young Baroness,
And know the cause of your distress.
Your form is comely, and your face
A Fairy Queen would not disgrace;
And, by my beard, I'll say the same
Of both these ladies of your name.
No wonder, then, you feel averse
To change your visages for worse;
And much object those draughts to swig
Which tend to make you heads of pig—
Say, what will you on him bestow
Who rids you of your present woe?"
He paused, and Clara felt very much puzzled what
to do. She saw at once that she was in the presence
of no ordinary being, and was well aware that when
wizards or fairies address mortals in rhyme, they
always expect to be answered in the same manner.
But poor Clara had never made a rhyme in her life,
and looked first at one and then at the other of her
sisters with a helpless and bewildered expression.
Mathilde was equally disconcerted, but it fortunately
happened that Bertha was able to come to the rescue.
From a child she had always been partial to nursery
rhymes, and having a tolerably retentive memory, she
summoned these to her aid in order to ascertain the
nature and intentions of the old man who had thus
addressed them, and accordingly accosted him as
follows :—
"Little Boy Blue, come blow up your horn—■
We be three maidens all forlorn:
Where's the little Boy that keeps the sheep?
Save lis, good sir, before you sleep!"


iil.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 175
No other rhyme occurring to Bertha, she paused, upon
which the old man replied at once :—
"To save you 'twas I journeyed here,
And those who trust me need not fear;
I'm old enough, as you may see,
Your very grandfather to be,
But yet I'm strong, as you will find,
And friendly too, when so inclined."
Upon this, Bertha, recalling another rhyme at once
to her mind, continued—
"Please be friendly, grandpapa.
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the earth so high,
Can you save us if you try f"
The old man smiled as he held on by the ledge of
the window, and thus proceeded :—
"Trust me, trust me, children three,
Saved you certainly shall be—
But, within this pig-faced den
Where the women play at men,
Bide ye still a little while,
Guile encountering with guile.
Do ye all my face forget?
Lately in the wood ye met
(As from home ye wildly ran)
One ye deemed a starving man.
Heedless of yourselves ye gave
t Food that vagrant seemed to crave,
And in giving, little deemed
He was not the thing he seemed.
I am he I that wretched thing
Is the mighty Hawthorn King:
He who hawthorn berry tries
Deadliest poison nullifies,
Cordial, drops, elixir fail
'Gainst his system to prevail,
Just as 'Woman's Right's ' pretence
Yields in face of common sense."


176 QUEER FOLK.' [in.
As soon as the three sisters heard these words, they
all broke out into cries of joy, and exclaimed with
one voice—
"Oh, please give us some berries, sir; for we have
had some of the medicine already, and are so afraid
of what may happen!"
The old man's brows wrinkled into a frown as he
heard these words, and he replied, with a somewhat
stately air—
"The slowest dullard surely knows
Immortal Beings love not prose,
And those who seek some great behest
Should try in verse to do their best."
On this the three sisters remained silent and trem-
bling for a moment, until Bertha resumed, in a voice
full of emotion—
"'Tis the voice of the sluggard, I heard him complain,
Oh, sir! we will none of us do it again.
As the door on its hinges so he on his bed, —
Pray give us the berries and save from Pig's-head."
The old man smiled graciously as she said these
words, and drawing from his pocket three little gold
boxes, handed them through the window to the
Baronesses, remarking as he did so—
"I'm very glad to hear you try,
In courtly form to versify,
And readily my power I show
To guard you from your pig-faced foe;
Two berries take at once, each maid;
Of nothing need ye be afraid;
Then next when royalty appears,
Smile pleasantly, and dry your tears;
Pretend repugnance to forsake
And cheerfully your physic take.


Hi.]' THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 177
But, when you've carried out this plan,
Gulp down as quickly as you can
Two hawthorn berries round and red,
And each shall keep her present head.
There, thank me not! I tell you that
I'm only giving tit for tat!"
So saying, the old man let go his hold of the window-
sill, pushed his balloon off, and in another instant was
lost to the sight of the astonished sisters. You may
well believe that they did not delay taking advantage
of the course which the Hawthorn King had pointed
out to them—Clara, Bertha, and Mathilde instantly
swallowed two berries apiece, and were charmed to
perceive that a sufficient number remained in each
box to allow of their repeating the operation after
each dose of the obnoxious medicine.
At the appointed time the Queen sailed into the
room, followed by her ladies, and, producing the bottle
of drops, was about to order her attendants to seize
the patients, when Clara stepped forward and ad-
dressed her, making at the same time a deferential
curtsey.
"Madam," she said, "since your Majesty left us,
we have been considering how unwise we have
been to dispute the wisdom and kindness of your
Majesty's intentions towards us, and how foolish to
attempt to disobey your Majesty's commands. We
would therefore submit ourselves to your clemency
as regards the past, and are prepared to be obedient
and submissive for the future."
At these words the Court ladies all clapped their
hands, and the Queen, glancing around with a triumph-
ant air, observed, in a self-satisfied tone of voice :—
N


178 QUEER FOLK. [in.
"You have decided rightly, my children. Resist-
ance to my commands would have been idle folly;
besides which, you may take it for granted that I am
right in my views on your behalf. Woman always is
right, when unfettered by the pigmy intellect of man."
The sisters said nothing, though the thought crossed
their minds that they were as much women as the
Queen, and therefore, by her own reasoning, at least
as likely to be right as she was, especially as no man
was present to interfere.
Then the Queen ordered the drop-bottles to be
brought, and with her own hands measured out the
appointed dose, which the sisters obediently swal-
lowed, though they could scarcely avoid making wry
faces at the exceedingly bitter taste. Their royal
visitor then informed them, that to reward them for
their repentance and submission to discipline, they
should have some supper sent up to their rooms;
after which gracious permission she retired, and the
young Baronesses were once more left to themselves.
It may easily be imagined that they lost no time
in bringing out their golden boxes, and swallowing
their berries with avidity. So contented were they
with the present position of affairs, and so confident
in the remedy provided by the Hawthorn King, that
they forgot all their past trouble and anxiety,
and became positively cheerful; so that the Court
ladies who came up with their supper found both
their spirits and appetites all that could be wished.
They retired to rest at an early hour, and slept the
dreamless sleep of innocent youth until far into the
morning.


iii.] 'THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 179
During the two days which followed no incident
occurred which calls for special remark. The sisters
took their meals with the Court, and their medicine
was regularly given them by the Queen at the proper
times. But on the evening of the second day her
Majesty visited them with a graver face than usual.
"Children," she said, "I cannot understand the
reason of the apparent failure of the potent medicines
which have been employed for your benefit. If all had
been well, bristles should have appeared upon your
faces before this, and your eyes and ears should have
undergone a change: even if you had not absolutely
arrived at the perfection of pig-faced beauty. But
something has evidently gone wrong, though what
I cannot say. I hope you have not been deceiving
me in any way?"
The sisters trembled and cast down their eyes,
for they felt that they had certainly been guilty of
deceit, justifiable though they believed it to be under
the peculiar circumstances of the case; so they said
nothing.
"Well," continued the Queen, "I do not see how
you can have done so, even had you desired it, for
I have seen you take the medicines with my own
eyes, and you have not been outside the house to
have the chance of eating any thing which would
counteract their effects, even if such thing existed.
All may yet be well, and, anyhow, to-morrow you
shall don those garments which alone befit the noble
limbs of woman."
These words somewhat alarmed the sisters, who
had hitherto been allowed to retain their usual dress,
N 2


180 QUEER FOLK. [in.
but had all along suspected that this would not long
be the case. They discussed the matter after the
Queen had gone; and pondered, moreover, upon the
course they would have to adopt when their berries
should be exhausted. This was now nearly the case;
and if the Queen should think fit to extend the
prescribed period of three days during which they
were to take the drops, cordial, and elixir, they would
be absolutely berryless. These were grave consi-
derations, and the three young ladies awoke early
the next morning with a new feeling of anxiety in
their hearts.
They were not kept long in doubt as to the inten-
tions of their royal patroness. There appeared at their
bed-side several of the Court ladies, carrying with
them the dresses which the three sisters were to
wear for the first time. A neatly-fitting kind of
polka was to cover their fair shoulders, and reach
just below their waists; but before this could be
donned, the garments which at home were only worn
by persons of the other sex were to encase their
tender legs. The manner of putting on and fastening
these garments was carefully explained by the ladies
who brought them, and who, whilst condoling with
the sisters upon the unaccountable delay in the
desirable change which might be daily expected in
their appearance, congratulated them upon the
gracious permission of the Queen to wear at once
the badges of superiority which already distinguished
themselves.
The sisters, blushing and trembling, heard the
words which were thus addressed to them, and on


iii.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 181
being left to themselves, hardly knew what to do.
They had been informed that within the hour they
would be visited by the Queen, who would expect
to find them properly dressed. Nevertheless, in spite
of their fears of her Majesty, they felt an almost
invincible repugnance to don the unaccustomed gar-
ments. These were made of dark-blue cloth, with
a stripe of gold down the side, being evidently in-
tended to be worn in the presence of royalty, and
were as well made as could be wished. But still
they were trousers—undeniable trousers—and such as
the young Baronesses had never worn in their lives.
After much consultation and doubt, they at last
determined that it was utterly useless to refuse
to obey the Queen's orders, and that the attempt
must be made. But in spite of the directions which
had been given them, the young ladies were by no
means clever in dressing themselves after this novel
fashion. Vexed and annoyed as they were at the
strange and unusual obligation imposed upon them,
they could not help laughing among themselves, and
at each other, as they tried to perform the task—the
difficulty of which they found considerable. They
Could not satisfy themselves at all. The things were
so strange to them, and so much did they doubt and
hesitate, that when the Queen at last entered the
apartment, she found Clara standing before the
looking-glass with her trousers buttoned on the hind
side before; Bertha sitting hopelessly on the side of
her bed, with her little feet thrust into the legs of her
new possession, which she was holding upside down,
in evident perplexity as to what should be done


QUEER FOLK. [iiL
next; whilst Mathilde was regarding her hitherto-
untried habiliments, laid at full length upon her bed,
with a puzzled air which promised no very speedy
solution of the difficulty which she found in deciding
upon the manner in which to employ them.
The Queen was filled with indignation at the
stupidity of her new subjects, and upbraided them in
no measured terms. As this, however, did not tend
to advance matters at all, she proceeded to give them
instructions of a clear and definite character; and
having shown them the manner in which her own
garments were worn, stood over them until they were
all three properly dressed. This part of the business
concluded, her Majesty addressed the three young
Baronesses in the following manner.
"My children," she said, "I am by no means satis-
fied with your progress up to the present time.
According to all precedent, long ere this you should
have lost that monotonous regularity of feature which
distinguishes the man-obeying and enslaved women
of ordinary human life. Bristles, snouts, small eyes,
and other leading characteristics of the free woman
should have appeared, and you should all have been
in a fair way to become fit companions for the strong-
minded females who constitute my happy kingdom.
I fear, however, that either your nature is incurably
perverse, or that some spell, unknown to me, is work-
ing against the efficacy of the medicines with which
you have been supplied. I will not, however, as yet
despair, you shall at once take a double dose of each
medicine, and this shall be repeated at intervals of
three hours during the day. If no perceptible effect


m.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 183
has been produced by evening, it may be necessary to
take other steps. Your heads shall be shaved, your
diet confined to pigs' feet and ears and an occasional
rasher of bacon, and a daily bath in hog-wash may
perhaps assist the due operation of the physic." With
these words the Queen quitted the apartment, leaving
the sisters petrified with horror.
At last, then, their doom was really at hand!
Escape seemed impossible! As to the diet, they
cared but little for that, and had no particular dislike
to the proposed change. But a bath in hog-wash!
The very thought was misery. And now that it was
proposed to shave their heads they began for the first
time to appreciate the length and comeliness of those
tresses whose colour had so often been a subject
of complaint and regret. Red hair might or might
not be beautiful. After all, that was a matter of
opinion, and there were probably countries in which
black or brown hair was thought less desirable than ■
hair of the colour which they possessed. But to have
no hair at all—to lose their natural possession, and to
lose it with the distinct object and intention of the
covering of their heads being assimilated to that of a
pig—the thought was almost sufficient to drive any
young lady mad, unless she were either a strong-
minded female or the near relative of a philosopher,
and the Baronesses were neither.
They consulted together, accordingly, upon their
prospects, with hearts heavy and despondent; and
all the more so as the berries in their golden boxes
were nearly exhausted, and when these were gone,
pig-facedness with all its horrors appeared inevitable.


184 QUEER FOLK. [ill.
Before they had arrived at any determination, the
Queen returned with sundry of her ladies, administered
the double doses of which she had spoken, and left
the poor girls once more to themselves.
They immediately swallowed their remaining berries,
and then gave themselves up to despair. This was
not diminished when, at the expiration of three hours,
they had again to undergo the same ordeal, and that
without possessing anything to counteract the effects
of the medicines. As the day advanced, they grew
more and more melancholy, and spent their time in
alternate long fits of crying, and journeys to the
looking-glass in order to see if the dreaded change
had yet commenced.
The shades of evening were already beginning to
close round the royal palace, and the melanch61y
of the sisters appeared to increase with the growing
darkness. All at once they were aroused by a noise
at their window, and looking up, observed an old
woman peering through the glass and making signs
that they should throw up the sash, which they
accordingly did. They then perceived that their
visitor was mounted on enormous stilts, which enabled
her to look in at the window without inconvenience;
and putting two and two together, and remembering
the events of the day before, they had not much
difficulty in coming to the conclusion that this was
the identical old woman upon whom they had bestowed
their alms. Indeed, if they had entertained any doubt
upon the subject, it would have been speedily removed
by the words in which the worthy dame at once
addressed them:—


186 QUEER FOLK. [in.
This time she was accompanied by a larger number
of ladies than had previously attended her, and the
sisters perceived with horror that her Majesty wore
an apron, similar to that with which hair-cutters are
apt to adorn themselves, and carried a large pair of.
scissors in her hand.
"Now, my children," she exclaimed in a cheerful
tone, "I am determined that there shall be no more
nonsense in this matter. Off comes your hair in the
twinkling of an eye, and, with the other expedients
which I have already mentioned to you, I have no
doubt we shall soon bring you to a decent and proper
appearance." With these words she approached Clara,
and at the same time motioned to her to be seated.
Clara was equal to the occasion, "May it please
your Majesty," she said in' a calm voice, "I do not
wish to lose my hair, and shall be much obliged by
your excusing me from the proposed operation."
The Queen stood stock still on hearing these words.
No anger did she evince, as had been the case upon
previous occasions, but a doubtful, irresolute expres-
sion came over her countenance, and she scratched
her left ear mechanically as she gazed on the daring
Baroness. "You don't want to lose your hair," she
said in a musing tone, as if this was a new view of the
business, which had then struck her for the first time.
"You don't want to lose your hair—well, a person's
hair is their own—certainly it is their own, though in
your case I do not think it is a possession to be proud
of. But are you really sure that you wish to keep
hair of such a colour?"
"Quite sure, madam," replied Clara, encouraged by


iii.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 187
the evident effect which the ring was producing upon
the Queen.
"Well then," continued the latter, "if such is your
decided wish, I do not know that I have any reason
to take it from you against your will. But is this
likewise the opinion of your sisters?" As she spoke
the Queen turned to Bertha and Mathilde with an
inquiring look. Both young ladies hastened to assure
her Majesty that they entirely agreed with their
sister, and would prefer to keep the natural coverings
of their heads.
"Well," observed the Queen upon hearing these
sentiments, "since you are all three of the same
opinion, I feel that it would be unkind to force you
to undergo an operation to which you have so much
objection. But perhaps you do not entertain the same
views with regard to a hog-wash bath?"
At these words the three sisters simultaneously
uttered an exclamation of horror, which appeared
greatly to surprise their royal visitor.
"What," she cried, "you object to that too? Really
this is very extraordinary. However, I feel strangely
and perhaps foolishly good-natured to-day, and there-
fore will not insist upon it. You shall merely take
your double dose of the medicines and see what they
will do for you."
"Thank you, madam," replied Clara, with a pro-
found curtsey, " but I would request your Majesty, on
behalf of my sisters and myself, to excuse our taking
any more of these nasty mixtures. In fact, we con-
sider that they do us no good, and we would greatly
prefer to leave them off."


188 QUEER FOLK, [in.
"Leave off your medicines!" cried the Queen, in a
voice of the utmost astonishment. "Why, the girls
must be mad! I cannot think of such a thing."
As her Majesty spoke, however, her eyes fell upon
the rings which the sisters wore, and passing her hand
over her forehead with a troubled air, and stroking her
snout reflectively, she continued—
"I cannot think what has come over me to-night!
I do not like yielding to folly, and folly it is for any-
one to reject the chance of becoming privileged and
pig-faced; but these girls are young—doubtless they
will grow wiser as they grow older; they are strangers,
too—it would be inhospitable to force them to do
that against which they are prejudiced. Yes, cer-
tainly, it would hardly be kind. We will wait a while
and think the matter over."
Thus speaking, her Majesty quitted the apartment
with her ladies, and the sisters were once more left to
themselves.
"Oil, Clara," cried Mathilde, immediately, "how
delightful! We shall not lose our hair after all!"
"Nor be pig-faced!" joyfully exclaimed Bertha.
"How very kind of the Hawthorn King and his
Queen, and how fortunate we are to have met with
such friends."
Clara shook her head and looked doubtfully at her
sisters.
"Yes," she said, thoughtfully, "it is certainly very
lucky that we have been saved thus far, but we are
still in the palace of the Pig-faced Ladies, and I see
not how we can possibly get away from it. I wonder
whether we ought to have asked the Queen to send us


I go QUEER FOLK. [ill.
past seven o'clock the next morning that they were
wide enough awake to remember all the circumstances
which had occurred on the previous evening. Clara,
however, having looked at her watch, and finding
that it was half-past seven, called to her sisters im-
mediately, told them the hour, and reminded them
that the power of their rings would shortly cease, and
they must expect further trouble.
The poor girls trembled at the prospect before
them, but having nothing to do but to make the best
of it, arose and dressed, cheering each other as well as
they could. Their toilet was scarcely finished before
a loud knocking at the door was followed by the
entrance of several of the Court ladies, who came to
inform them that the Queen desired their immediate
attendance in the great breakfast-room.
Accordingly they finished dressing as quickly as
they were able, and descended the stairs in fear and
trembling, all the more so as a glance through the
window on the staircase informed them that the great
clock over the stable was just about to strike half-past
eight, so that it was pretty certain that the twelve
hours of the spell had now expired! Of this unfor-
tunate fact they were no longer in doubt from the
moment of their entrance into the breakfast-room.
The Queen was seated in a chair at one end. Upon
a table upon her right-hand stood the well-known
bottles of medicine, near which lay a large pair of
scissors. But, worse than all, three large baths had
been placed upon the floor upon her Majesty's left
hand, which were each half full of undeniable hog-
wash, and behind each of which stood two elderly





§


iii.] THE-PIG-FACED QUEEN. 191
ladies of the pig-faced tribe with aprons tied round
their waists and holding thick rough towels in their
hands.
The young Baronesses gazed upon these prepara-
tions with the greatest alarm. It was but too evident
that the fatal moment had arrived, and that unless
some speedy succour was afforded them, the crisis of
their fate was at hand. Tossing her snout proudly in
the air, and laying her short ears back upon her head
as far as she could, the Queen rose from her chair as
the sisters entered the apartment.
"Now," she said, "young women, I have had quite
trouble enough with you already! I cannot think
what made me so foolishly good-natured last night,
but whatever it was, the weakness is over, and to-day
I must and will have obedience to my orders. You
will immediately take the medicines which I have
here; you will then be cropped by persons who
understand the business; after which you will be good
enough to divest yourselves of your clothes and each
of you get into one of these baths, where you will be
thoroughly well scrubbed by certain of my ladies who
have kindly volunteered to perfom the task. You do
not know what is good for you, young women, and it
is high time you should be taught."
All the Court ladies who stood round about the
Queen as she pronounced these words gave vent to
their feelings of approbation by clapping their hands,
and showed evident delight at the prospect of some
amusement from the scene which they expected to
follow. The sisters, on the contrary, were overwhelmed
with terror and despair. To be forced to take the


192 QUEER FOLK. [hi.
hated medicine was bad enough—worse to be con-
demned to lose their hair, but to be stripped and
washed in hog-wash before all the Court ladies was a
thing too terrible to be endured, especially when it
was to be accompanied or followed by a scrubbing
from the very coarse towels which were in the hands
of those appointed for the performance of this part
of the operation.
Terror rendered the poor girls speechless, and the
Queen had actually laid her hand upon the nearest
bottle of medicine for the purpose of uncorking it,
when a loud noise at the other end of the room at-
tracted everybody's attention. The door was thrown
suddenly open, and an old man and woman appeared
walking slowly forward, and pushing aside those who
seemed inclined to prevent their progress. The sisters
recognized at a glance the figures of their friends the
Hawthorn King and his Consort, but no one else
seemed to have any idea of the rank of these unex-
pected guests. Nor, indeed, did their garb betoken
royalty, for the illustrious couple were clad in the
same scanty and time-worn apparel as that in which
they had presented themselves to the sisters in the
forest.
Side by side they advanced up the room, and in a
voice apparently tremulous with age and agitation
the old man spoke, as he drew near the chair on
which the Queen was seated.
"Of your clemency, gracious lady," he said, "in-
terpose your lawful and great authority to settle
matters between this my wife and me, for we can by
no means do so for ourselves."


iii.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 193
"How now, varlet?" replied the Queen in some
anger. "Do you thrust yourself into our presence in
this manner, without audience sought or prayer for
admission sent to us? Where are your manners, Sir
Knave?"
"I crave pardon, royal madam! I crave pardon
humbly," said the man; "but your gracious mood is
so well known hereabouts, that as our business was
rather pressing, we made bold to come hither without
delay."
The Queen, being somewhat mollified by these
words, rebuked the old couple no more, but in a softer
and more encouraging tone of voice told the man,
that as he had obtained entrance into the palace, he
might state his business without further ceremony.
Having thus received permission to speak, the aged
intruder bowed lowly and reverently before the royal
lady, and thus commenced :—
"You must know, madam," said he, "that this my
wife and I have lived in a plain, old-fashioned way
for many years, she being generally obedient to me
and regarding me as the lawful and proper ruler of
the house."
At these words a low groan of disapprobation ran
through the Court circle, and the Queen threw up her
snout in a manner palpably contemptuous. Nothing
disconcerted, however, by these demonstrations, the
old man continued his address.
"We have lived contentedly in this manner," said
he, "for many years. My wife kept house at home
and I worked in the forest as a wood-cutter—and we
got on tolerably well. But of late we have come to
O


i94 QUEER FOLK. [in.
see the wisdom of the laws by which your Majesty's
kingdom is governed. My wife claims to have equal
authority with me in the house, and not only so, but
asserts that she is the superior being, and that I am
bound to obey her will, and acknowledge and bow
before her greater wisdom. To this, gracious Queen,
I readily consent."
There arose a murmur of applause among the Court
ladies, and the Queen nodded her head approvingly.
"But," continued the speaker, "a new cause of dis-
sension has sprung up between us. Since I am no
longer admitted to be the stronger of the two, I think
it is but fair that my wife should share my hard work.
Why am / to do all the wood-cutting, in bad weather
as well as good, while she stays comfortably at home?
I am not such a good cook as she is, and confess that I
understand but little of the art of baking: I am willing,
however, to try my hand at these and other domestic
occupations to which my wife formerly attended, but
I insist upon it, that in return the good woman must
help me with my wood-cutting, and should, moreover,
take her turn to act as parish constable, which has
fallen to my lot for many years past. As she refuses,
and we could not settle the matter by argument, we
have left our country, which adjoins your Majesty's
kingdom, and have come to ask you to be graciously
pleased to decide it for us."
As the old man concluded, there was a low buzz of
mingled wonder and approbation among the crowd of
pig-faced ladies who filled the room. That a man
should thus voluntarily come from another country and
submit his case to the decision of their Queen was,


in.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 195
indeed, a moral triumph of no ordinary kind, and they
hailed the circumstance with delight, as another tri-
bute paid to the superiority of womankind over the
baser and harder portion of created beings.
The Queen was equal to the occasion. Rising with
an air of conscious dignity, from which the peculiarity
of her head and face detracted nothing in the eyes of
those who were similarly situated, she addressed the
applicant for her decision in tones firm and deter-
mined :—
• "Man," she said—" aged but ignorant man,—you
have at least done well in the step which you have
now taken. You have, however, altogether misunder-
stood the relative positions which you and your wife
ought henceforth to occupy. You have yielded up
the false authority which you have hitherto exercised
over this worthy woman. You have, indeed, prac-
tically confessed that she is the superior—you the
inferior—animal. It follows, therefore, that to her
authority you must be subject; her will you must
obey. And since nature has formed you for the
harder work which is carried on out of doors, this you
must continue to perform, without requiring that aid
from your wife which she is unable to bestow. Obey
her in all things—work for her—defend her—and
acknowledge her as your lawful head. And as to the
constable part of the business, the duties of a constable
are not such as a woman can be expected to perform,
being better suited to the harder nature of a man.
Go; you have my decision, and had better respect it."
When the Queen had finished, the behaviour of the
old man became strange in the extreme. Instead of
O 2


196 QUEER FOLK. , [in.
withdrawing from the room in the same respectful
manner as he had entered it, and quietly submitting
to the decree which had been just announced, he put
his arms akimbo, and burst into a loud and insulting
laugh, in which he was heartily joined.by his wife.
The Queen arose, filled with indignation, and was
about to give orders for his instant seizure, when the
old man waved his arm in the air with a lofty gesture,
and, somehow or other, as he did so, a mysterious
dread fell upon the assembled Court, and no one
seemed to have the power of moving from her
place.
"Fool!" exclaimed the venerable stranger; and
those who looked towards him (and, who did not ?)
remarked that his form seemed to grow larger, his
demeanour to become more and more dignified, and
his whole appearance to acquire a majesty which
struck the beholders with astonishment and awe.
"Pig-faced fool!" again said the old man, unmis-
takeably addressing the Queen; "is it you who
appeal to nature, who scout and set at nought that
very nature in your everyday acts and in the maxims
by which you rule your kingdom? Will your folly
never have an end? And do you seriously believe
that you can ever induce the world to join you in
your mad attempt to change the laws by which the
universe has been governed ever since it was created?
You have just owned with your own lips that there
are duties which must be performed by man on
account of his greater strength, and yet you would
have the stronger being confess himself inferior to the
weaker! If woman is to share equally the authority


Iii.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. J97
of man, she must equally share his duties, and if she
is to be his superior, she must take the greater share
of those duties. Oh, the stupidity of you pig-faced
females! Have you not the sense to see that there
are household and domestic duties which man cannot
perform so well as woman—and some of which, in
fact, he cannot perform at all; and can you not per-
ceive that in the due exercise of these duties lies the
true power and beauty and usefulness of woman in
the world's organization? But I have no time to
waste upon your nonsense to-day: you are welcome,
poor Queen, to keep those as your subjects who prefer
to remain so. They are mostly females who have
failed to attract the admiration of the other sex, or
who have not been blessed with children, through
whom their thoughts might have been directed into a
better channel. Keep these if you please, but there
are some here whom you must keep no longer. It is
intolerable that you should not only be pig-faced and
foolish yourselves, but should endeavour to reduce
every lady visitor to your own unhappy condition.
To this I shall put an end."
The old man had spoken these words without inter-
ruption, for fear, surprise, and curiosity had hitherto
kept everyone silent. But the Queen about this time
found her voice, and, trembling with suppressed rage,
thus addressed her extraordinary visitor :—
"Man—old man—impertinent old man—very im-
pertinent old man,—who are you, and what is this
nonsense you are daring to utter in the Dominion of
Woman? Seize him, my subjects, seize the villain
at once!"


in.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 199
to the young ladies who have lately been your guests,
the Hawthorn King, and this is my Royal Consort
who accompanies me. My power in the world of
magic is considerable, and I would gladly exert it on
your behalf if such an exercise were possible. But I
have no power to help people who do not desire to be
helped and who will not help themselves. Therefore,
whilst you continue to be so delighted with your own
appearance and opinions, I cannot attempt to change
either the one or the other. You must go on fighting
against nature and nature's laws until you are tired
of doing so. Meanwhile, however, I propose to intro-
duce a change into your kingdom at which I think
you will rejoice. Since you are, in your own opinion,
so superior to those of the other sex, the perpetual
contrast between your and their qualifications can be
good for neither of you; I shall therefore banish
every male person from your kingdom from this day
forth, and leave you to govern superior beings alone."
At these words the Queen and her ladies, suddenly
finding their voices, burst forth into one wild shriek of
rage and dismay, which, however, produced not the
slightest effect upon the Hawthorn King. Proceeding
to the courtyard, he directed the attendants to bring
out the horses belonging to the three Baronesses,
after which he summoned every male in and about
the Palace, until a goodly band of fifty were assem-
bled around him. These he ordered to mount horses
taken from the Palace stables, which seemed to be
well filled, and to follow him. The King then laid
his hands upon each sister's head, and gave them his
parting blessing.


QUEER FOLK. [in.
"My children," he said, "these people, whom I
have freed from their absurd condition of slavery to
the Pig-faced Women, will escort you safely to your
father's castle. From all that has occurred to you
since you left it, I hope you will have learned that to
run away from home is just the most foolish thing
you can possibly do. 'Home is home, be it never so
homely,' and your father and mother are the best
friends you will ever have. Go, then, make amends
for your desertion of your parents by a renewed dis-
play of affection and respect, and remember how for-
tunate you have been to have avoided the fate into
which you had so nearly fallen."
So saying, the old man turned away from the
Palace, and the sisters saw no more of him. The
band of attendants with which he had provided them
seemed to take it all as a matter of course. Dividing
themselves into two parts, half preceded, half followed
the young ladies, and so they rode gaily through the
forest The way appeared shorter than when they
had travelled it before; no particular adventure
occurred, and they arrived in due time before the
castle of their noble father.
The good man was much astonished at the sight
of so large a cavalcade approaching his abode, and
sallied forth with divers men-at-arms to ascertain the
cause of their coming. Great was his satisfaction
at discovering the meaning of the advancing troop,
nor was the Baroness less delighted at regaining her
daughters.
When their departure had been discovered, the usual
course of events in such cases had naturally followed.


Hi.] THE flG-FACED QUEEN. 201-
The beauty, talents, and virtues of the three sisters had
been remembered—the colour of their hair had been
forgotten. The unhappy parents blamed themselves,
and imagined all possible disasters to have occurred
to their beloved daughters. The country had been
scoured far and wide; the matter had been put into
the hands of the police (of course without the slightest
result, except the arrest of three men who had nothing
whatever to do with it, and had to be largely compen-
sated afterwards), and advertisements had been fruit-
lessly inserted in all the local newspapers.
The reappearance of the young ladies, however, set
everything right, and great were the rejoicings that fol-
lowed. In the first instance, however, the girls having
gone with the Baron to find their mother, encountered
that estimable lady in one of the drawing-rooms, in
which large and costly mirrors were a striking feature
among the furniture. Glancing at themselves in one of
these, the sisters started back in astonishment. The
colour of their hair had visibly changed from red to a
delicate brown. Yes, the obnoxious tinge had gone,
and nothing was left to be desired. No doubt it was the
touch of the Hawthorn King which had effected this
miraculous change, when he laid his hands upon their
heads at their last parting. But however this might
be, the result was eminently satisfactory, especially to
the old Baron and Baroness, who, if they had still
any latent prejudice upon the subject, had now no
grounds whatever for objection to their children.
The latter speedily told their story, and related all
that had befallen them since their departure from the
Palace. Their parents heard with astonishment and


202 QUEER FOLK. [in.
interest, and expressed in grateful terms their kindly
feelings towards the Hawthorn King. They gave a
royal entertainment to the band of attendants who
had so faithfully escorted the young ladies upon their
homeward journey, and congratulated them upon
their escape from the false position which they had
evidently occupied in the Dominion of Woman.
Of the latter I can tell you nothing more. Very likely
the Queen still goes on as she did when the sisters
were there, and as long as there are foolish men to
compose elixirs, and draughts, and drops, of the kind
I have told you of, I daresay the world will never be
without its Pig-faced Women. But the world will
probably go on just the same, as long as it goes on at
all, and Nature will not be changed to suit the fancy
or convenience of these superior beings.
I do not know that I need say much more about
the three young Baronesses. The colour of their
hair before the events which I have narrated having
been their only defect in the eyes of their parents, the
latter became so devotedly attached to them that
they ran the greatest risk of being entirely spoiled.
Fortunately, however, this was not the case. They
were not long in discovering that their mission upon
earth was neither to be pig-faced nor single. Three
eligible suitors appeared, who, although of the male
gender, were as gentle as possible in their behaviour
before they were married, and, strange to say, never
beat, bullied, or teased their wives afterwards. Clara,
Bertha, and Mathilde, never claiming rights which
Nature had denied to them, found that the privileges
of their sex were willingly conceded to them by their


iii.] THE PIG-FACED QUEEN. 203
husbands, and that they really enjoyed quite as much
influence and authority as they could desire.
They had children, beautiful as themselves, with hair
which was all that could be desired. They lived upon
the most affectionate terms with their husbands, and
with all their relations. They had not the slightest
inclination to leave their respective homes, of which
each was, in fact, the idol, and the chief source of
happiness to all around her; and I believe it is not
too much to say that never did any moment of pass-
ing discontent or sorrow lead them for a single second
to desire even a temporary return to the Pig-faced
Queen and the Dominion of Woman.


IV.
LITTLE GRUB.
There was once a boy named Grub. It was not a
pretty name, and, for the matter of that, he was not
a pretty boy. There he was, however, all the same;
and if you come to think of it, the boy could not help
either his name or his want of beauty. It must be
owned that soap and water might have done some-
thing for him. Not that it could or would have made
him beautiful, but a clean boy is better than a dirty
boy any day in the week. Well, Grub was dirty,
decidedly dirty. People do get dirty, whether they
be boys or men, if they habitually play in the gutter,
make mud-pies, and roll upon cinder-heaps. These
were favourite amusements of Grub, and, as he lived
in a free country, why shouldn't he have amused him-
self as he pleased? He had no father or mother,
poor little fellow, so that he was not looked after very
carefully. He had never known who his father was,
or if he had ever had a father at all; and if he ever
gave the matter a thought, he probably imagined the
beadle of the parish to stand in that relation to him,


iv.] LITTLE GRUB. 205
inasmuch as that mighty official, popularly known to
Grub and other boys of his age and size as "Old
Beagles," was the only person who ever evinced any-
thing like a paternal interest in him, by rapping him
occasionally on the head, and objuring him to get off
the church steps, under the endearing title of "ouda-
cious young varmint."
His mother Grub could just remember, not her face
indeed, but a loving smile and last kindly look, such as
dwell upon infant memories far oftener and longer than
older and wiser heads believe or imagine. Since her
death Little Grub had lived with an aunt; at least,
she called herself his aunt, though whether she was
so or not he had no means of knowing. At least she
asserted the rights of an aunt: boxed his ears occa-
sionally, scolded him frequently, and bound him by
solemn league and covenant to bring home anything
which he might pick up on his travels. He picked
up something occasionally, no doubt; but I am not
going to say anything more about that, because it has
nothing to do with our story, and I only mention it
because it was the fact of his not having picked up
anything one day that led to the circumstances which
I am going to relate.
All day long had Little Grub roamed about the
streets, playing with other boys, shouting at in-
offensive dogs when they least expected it, marking
clean door-steps with the most approved mud pat-
terns, and behaving himself in the generally ob-
noxious manner of a street-boy in a large town. He
had even gone so far as to throw a lump of mud
upon the clean calves of a particularly smart footman


2o6 QUEER FOLK. [iv.
who was walking behind his mistress with becoming
dignity, and had insulted the sacred person of a
majestic butler by planting his thumb grimly against
the tip of his nose, and spreading out his fingers at
full length in a wild and reckless manner.
These innocent pastimes, however, had come to an
end, and the pangs of hunger had begun to remind our
hero that his morning meal had been scanty, and that
his internal larder stood much in need of some re-
plenishing process.
Grub was about twelve years old, at which age
the appetite asserts its claims with some vigour, and
when nothing comes amiss to a boy of ordinary
capacity. Unhappily for Grub, there was no apparent
prospect of eating where he was—which was in the
middle of a large puddle—and little more in the
event of his going home empty-handed to his aunt.
This made him rather cross, and he began to wonder
why he couldn't eat when he was hungry, and to
think how cross all the bakers and pastrycooks were,
who, as he well knew by experience, would give him
nothing but hard words if he ventured near their
comfortable-looking, well-stocked shops.
It was a kind of open space or square in which
Grub was occupying the chief puddle at this mo-
ment, and people were crossing to and fro, all
intent upon their own business, and none of them
paying the slightest attention to the hungry boy.
A tall gentleman, so upright that Grub thought he
must be a soldier, passed near him, after whom the
boy gazed with silent wonder whether he ever had a
chance of growing so tall; then came a "young lady"
X


208 QUEER FOLK. [iv.
round with a placid smile, and calmly pointed at Grub
with his umbrella.
It was to all appearance an ordinary green silk
umbrella which had seen some service, and had
nothing particular about it. Nevertheless, no sooner
was it pointed at Grub, than he felt a kind of strange
fascination, which completely overcame him and de-
prived him of all wish or power to move. Slowly the
old gentleman approached the point nearer and nearer
to the trembling boy, and then giving him a gentle
but decided "prod" in the side, turned round and
proceeded slowly on his way.
Impelled by some sweet but irresistible influence,
the unhappy Grub had no alternative but to follow.
Visions of policemen, of magistrates, of whippings, all
flitted before his miserable eyes, but he could no more
run away than he could fly; and, with a heart de-
pressed, and a head hanging sadly down, and a
stomach still pining to be filled, he followed step by
step behind the object of his late exploit, not knowing
why or wherefore, but entirely unable to do any-
thing else, or to offer the smallest remonstrance.
On marched the old gentleman, with a slow and
stately step, until he reached the other side of the
square, and took his way up a small street which led
into one of the main thoroughfares of the city, which
he forthwith entered, and threaded his way among the
busy throng of citizens, still followed by the trembling
and wondering Grub. Presently they came to a court
leading out of the large street, into which they turned,
and beheld immediately before them a large red-brick
house. There appeared to be no door whatever in


iv.] LITTLE GRUB. 209
the wall towards which they marched, and Grub,
though too much bewildered to be able to think
much, did think it very curious that his venerable
leader should apparently be about to run deliberately
against a dead wall. This, however, as was very
shortly apparent to the boy, was not the old gen-
tleman's intention. He walked up to within a few
feet of the wall, and then, raising the umbrella which
had been so fatal to Grub, with the end of it gave
three solemn raps upon the bricks, whereupon a brick
door, which no one could by any possibility have
suspected to exist, so exactly did it resemble the rest
of the wall, fell suddenly back and disclosed a wide
passage, dimly lighted by some unseen lamps.
Then, for the first time, the old gentleman turned
round upon the luckless Grub, seized him by the
scruff of the neck, and, before he could utter a scream
or sound of any kind, dragged him inside the brick
door, which immediately closed behind them.
The terrified Grub now perceived a wonderful
change come over the appearance of his conqueror,
for such indeed was the old gentleman. His body
shortened, the tips of his toes turned up curiously,
his nose became larger and curved in a fantastic
manner, a strange hat appeared on his head, his eyes
twinkled with a supernatural expression of mingled
wit and cunning, and Grub knew at once, from his
general knowledge of street shows and puppets, that
this must indeed be Punch himself, or Punch's own
brother, into whose hands he had fallen.
Indeed, if he had entertained any doubts upon this
interesting subject, they would have been speedily
P


QUEER FOLK. [iv.
removed by the next proceeding of his captor, who
in a shrill, squeaky voice exclaimed—
"Judy, Judy! Oh dear, oh dear; here's a bit of
fun! Toby, Toby, Toby!"
And in another instant a door was thrown open,
from which there issued into the passage a female of
eccentric appearance, with a high, old-fashioned cap
on her head, and followed by a small spaniel with a
curly tail, who ran straight up to Grub, and made as
if he was about to snap at his legs. The boy naturally
shrunk away from the dog, who then proceeded to
stand on his hind legs and dance a hornpipe, which
would have greatly amused Grub at another and less
critical period of his existence. Now, however, he
could only shiver with fright, and wonder what was
going to become of him, and was more frightened
than ever when Punch continued—
"Oh Judy, my duck! such a young rascal of a
boy—throwing mud about and splashing dirty water
over quiet passers-by. He's mine, he's mine—-just
the sort we can manage. Come and see the others,
and where he'll fit in."
Although Grub by no means understood the mean-
ing of these words, he felt pretty certain that they
boded him no good, nor was he by any means re-
assured when Judy, clapping her hands vehemently,
exclaimed with great glee—
"Hurra, hurra! Oh yes, oh yes! He's just the
thing we want, and the sugar is all ready. You dear
old Punch, how cleverly you do manage things!"
With these words she threw open the door of the
room which she had closed behind her, and re-entered


iv.] LITTLE GRUB. 211
it, followed by Punch dragging in the wretched Grub
by the left ear. It was a spacious room with a large
deal table in the middle, so large that Grub thought
he had never seen anything like it before. Upon the
table there was an immense dish, and in the dish the
biggest Twelfth-cake that the eyes of childhood ever
beheld. It was a positive monster, and whitened sugar
of the most approved kind encrusted it all over, as is
the usual fashion with cakes of this description. Upon
the sugared surface of the cake were numerous figures,
just as you may have seen upon the twelfth-cakes
which sometimes appear at Christmas time—which
are, in fact, wedding-cakes; although which gave rise
to the other—whether the proper name for a wedding-
cake is a Twelfth-cake, or the proper name for a
twelfth-cake is a Wedding-cake—is a point which it
requires a more learned person than I am to pronounce
upon with any degree of confidence.
There was the cake, however, and there were the
figures, which, of course, to correspond with the size
of the edifice on which they stood, were ten times as
big as ordinary Twelfth-cake figures. For one moment
Grub gazed upon these with admiration, and then, his
admiration changed to awe when he recognized in
each of the figures some real person whom he had
seen or known outside in the busy world.
There was little Tommy Jackson—sugared all over,
but with his face just as it was when he was play-
ing in the streets, only the mischievous look he had
when he spread orange-peel judiciously on the pave-
ment with dire intent of causing falls had changed to
a sad expression of countenance, as that of a boy shut
P 2


212 QUEER FOLK. [iv.
up in the schoolroom on a half-holiday and thinking
of his companions enjoying the out-door pleasures
denied to himself. Then there was little Mary
Purston, encrusted in sugar, and looking as miserable
as could be. And several other of his companions did
Grub observe, all wearing upon their countenances a
dismal and woe-begone expression. But there were
others there besides. There was the portly Mayor of
the town, swelling with dignity, but fast by the feet
in the sugared surface of the cake. There were one
or two figures uncommonly like some of the city
police—and there, why, yes! there certainly was " Old
Beagles" himself. What did it all mean? What
could it mean? Grub could not imagine where he
was, or what had happened. Was he dead, and were
all these people dead too? Or what right had Punch
to treat them so? and was he to be served the same?
In the midst of his fear and wonderings he heard
Punch say, in his own peculiar tone of voice, "Now
then, Judy, where's the sugar?" and then it flashed
upon him all in a moment that his fate was to be
similar to that of the figures he saw before him—
that he would be sugared all over, possibly baked,
and stuck on the top of the cake with the others.
Scarcely had the thought crossed his mind when Judy,
in obedience to the orders of her husband, produced
a pot, full of sugar in a state of paste, which she began
vigorously to stir up, whilst Toby danced round it on
his hind legs and begged for a taste, which his mistress
occasionally gave him.
At this stage of the proceedings poor Grub tried
hard to find his voice, and actually gave vent to a


214 QUEER FOLK. . [iv.
unfortunate little fellow was fastened tightly to the
top of the cake by the sugar-paste, which had become
quite firm and hard, and held him there in the painful,
if honourable, position of a twelfth-cake ornament.
It was by no means a pleasant position as it was,
thought Grub, and one which he would never have
occupied by choice; but it would be ten times worse
if he was to be regarded in the light of an intruder by
those who were already on the cake, and who evidently-
resented his appearance amongst them.
Looking round to see who it was that had given
so palpable an expression to this feeling, the boy
found himself close to his old and inveterate enemy,
"Beagles," who, swelling with mingled dignity and
passion, and with his cheeks more puffed out and
fatter than ever, angrily regarded the unhappy Grub,
and again addressed him with scornful and upbraiding
words: "Where are you scrooging to, you young;
willain?"
Now poor Grub was "scrooging" no where, for the
excellent reason that he was perfectly unable to move
a single inch, and was, moreover, in his present posi-
tion entirely against his will. Nevertheless, he had
evidently offended his neighbour, however uninten-
tionally, and as a Beadle is not a person who can be
safely left unanswered if he condescends to address
you, Little Grub summoned up all his courage to his
aid, and meekly replied: "If you please, sir, I didn't
mean for to go for to do anything." Which answer,
although neither strictly grammatical nor very definite,
was the best which he could manufacture at the
moment.


iv.] LITTLE GRUB. 215
The Beadle, however, was by no means satisfied,
and replied, in a severe tone, "Come, none of this,
you young varmint; you move on!"
Now this was exactly what Grub would have given
his ears to do, but which circumstances rendered quite
impossible, so he remained precisely where he was,
and whimpered out in sorrowful tones, "Please, sir,
I can't."
At these words the face of the Beadle grew redder
and his manner more angry than ever, and he lifted
his gold-headed cane in the air, as if intending to
bring it down heavily on the boy's head. But at this
moment the dispute seemed to have attracted the
attention of the Mayor, a portly-looking gentleman
with rather a pleasant expression of countenance, who
was fast by the feet in the very centre of the cake,
and apparently quite resigned to his fate.
"Beadle," said his Worship, in an inquiring tone
of voice, "what are you doing there? I hear a voice
as of a lad crying. For goodness' sake remember how
dangerous such a thing might be under our present
circumstances. Our footing, although unpleasantly
tight at present, would be infinitely worse if the fall-
ing of hot tears should convert the surface upon which
we stand into slippery ice, and this will certainly be
the result if you make boys cry upon it. Fast as we
are by the feet, we should in that case slide bodily
downwards, and probably experience a painful and
perhaps fatal fall. Wherefore, desist, and let the boy
alone."
The Beadle made no reply, but casting an evil
look upon Grub, muttered something to himself about
s


216 QUEER FOLK. [iv.
strange times, and boys being worse than ever, after
which he sighed heavily and remained silent.
Grub now looked about him, and observed with
some satisfaction that nobody seemed better off than
himself: all were held tight by the feet, and could
amuse themselves in no other way than by looking at
each other. He fancied, however, that chance, or fate,
or the clever management of Punch, had put close
together just those people who would probably have
preferred being as far as possible from each other.
Close to the Mayor was the Editor of a local news-
paper who had done nothing but abuse his Worship
ever since his election to his present high office. Next
to him was a rival Editor, who had filled the columns
of his paper with the most contemptuous reviling and
bitter attacks upon the other gentleman of the press.
The Clergyman of the town was fastened cheek-by-
jowl with a dissenting Preacher who devoted his
powers to weekly attacks upon the Church. The
Landlord of the public-house nearest Grub's abode was
stuck down close to a leading Teetotaller, who viewed
beer, gin, and wine as so much poison. The Grocer
who sold wine over his counter was next to the pub-
lican, who had loudly accused him of taking away his
legitimate trade by this practice. The Inspector of
Weights and Measures was surrounded by trades-
men against whom he had informed for having light
weights and deficient measures in their shops; whilst
the Commissioners of Income Tax were in the midst
of persons who had bitterly complained of being over-
charged, and had, as, strange to say, was usual in
that city, failed to obtain the slightest redress.


iv.] LJTTLE GRUB. 217 ,
Little Grub looked round upon the company with
a curious eye, and wondered greatly at the manner
in which they had been arranged. He thought there
would very likely be some quarrelling or scolding
among them, but the common misfortune in which
they found themselves involved had apparently
soothed all irritation in their minds, and everybody
appeared peaceably disposed. In fact, had they been
otherwise, the peculiar nature of their position would
have rendered it difficult for them to have engaged in
any active demonstration of anger against each other.
It is true that their hands and arms were at liberty,
but their feet were all so tightly set in the sugared
surface of the cake that they could stretch or bend
neither to the right nor left, and if they attempted to
do so, there was the dreadful risk of losing their balance,
and either breaking off short at the ankles, or suffering
severely from the wrench they would have to undergo
in recovering themselves. But whatever the reason
might be, the whole company seemed to have forgotten
the dislikes and jealousies which had distinguished
them in their ordinary lives in the world where Grub
had known them, and all seemed to be awaiting their
coming fate without thought of anything else.
But what was their coming fate? Grub had never
known or heard or even dreamed of such an extra-
ordinary state of things. The whole population of a
town frozen upon a twelfth-cake! Had such an event
ever occurred before? Was it real, or he dreaming?
That kind of feeling came over him which we have all
of us felt at some time or other when in the midst of
some very vivid but extraordinary dream. One says to
>


iv.] LITTLE GRUB. 219
to make one forget the outside picture at once in the
sight of such delicacies within. All these things were
upon the table of which I speak, and in the very
centre of this was placed the cake upon which were
fastened Little Grub and his fellow-townspeople.
Hardly had they recovered from the shock conse-
quent upon the change from the comparative obscurity
of Punch's private room to this brilliantly-lighted scene
of festivity, when a shout, or rather, a roar of excite-
ment and pleasure, rang through their startled ears.
Little Grub looked around, almost stunned by the
sound, and saw at once that it proceeded from a num-
ber of children who were assembled around the table,
all eagerly gazing on the cake. Children, indeed, they
evidently were, from the tones of their voices, from
the things they said, and from [the dresses they wore.
But they were many times larger than any children
that Little Grub had ever seen, and the few grown-up
people who were amongst them were perfect monsters.
Strange thoughts flitted through the boy's head as he
looked on the happy and excited faces of the juvenile
party before him. They evidently regarded him and
his companions as Twelfth-cake ornaments. Indeed,
why should they not? Grub had seen Twelfth-cakes,
with their usual ornaments, standing in the shops of
, the principal confectioners in his native place, and
though he had never been at a Twelfth-cake party, he
quite understood what happened to such things after-
wards—how they were taken to the houses of those
who were rich enough to buy them, and how the
happy children who lived in such houses had the
ornaments taken carefully off" and divided among


220 QUEER FOLK. [iv.
them. How curious it would be, if all these orna-
ments were real people, like those on the cake with
himself at that moment! Perhaps this was the true
state of the case, and the boys and girls who shared
the pretty figures on the cakes he had seen were
actually dividing among them real people, frozen on
to the cake by the wicked arts of Punch or some
equally-powerful magician. Then, if this was so, what
became of the poor people afterwards? Did they re-
tain the power of sight, smell, and hearing afterwards?
and did they ever get back to their own homes? Or
did they turn into mere dead images as soon as they
left the cake, and become the absolute property of the
children into whose hands they chanced to fall? These
considerations mightily puzzled the boy as he stood in
his place upon the cake, and listened to the conversa-
tion of the children who crowded round the table.
Meanwhile, all power of speech or motion seemed
to have departed from the figures upon the cake, or if
such remained to any one of them, the party for. whose
pleasure they were placed upon the table evidently
did not perceive it, but spoke of and treated them as
dumb and inanimate puppets, and pointed out to each
other the different figures which particularly struck
their fancy.
"Oh, look at that old woman with a pail!—how
cross she looks!" cried one young lady, pointing to a
figure whom Grub recognized as old Betty Barlow,
the washerwoman who lived hard by his own humble
dwelling, and who had given him many a richly-
deserved scolding for tricks which he had played her
from time to time.


iv.] LITTLE GRUB. 221
"And what a roguish face that beggar-boy has
got!" said another, pointing at Grub himself, who felt
very much disconcerted by the remark, but could
make no rejoinder. Then the children criticized the
Mayor, whom they called a pompous old owl, an
epithet which must have been exceedingly annoying
to the old gentleman, and which, if he could, he would
doubtless have resented.
But Grub felt some consolation in his own misery
when he witnessed the flood of ridicule which was
poured upon the head of his old enemy " Beagles."
"Do look at this comical figure ?" said one child to
another; "what a red face it has!" "Yes, and what
a queer dress!" observed the second. And then a
third and a fourth took up the tale. "Look at its
cocked hat!" "How conceited it looks."
"A regular old slow-coach, I'll be bound," shouted
a boy, jumping up on a chair to get a better view;
"what a quiz of an old fellow he would be if he were
really alive!" And so they went on laughing at the
poor old Beadle, until Grub, who saw or fancied he
saw him swelling ready to burst with rage and vexa-
tion, really felt sorry for his ancient foe.
For some little time this kind of conversation went
on, until some one raised a cry that it was time to
cut the cake! Hope bounded instantly to the heart
of Grub, but only to be succeeded by the keen chill
of disappointment. Cut the cake! what good would
that do him? He might be left on it after all, for the
cake might be cut without all the ornaments being
taken off it. Supposing, however, that they were
removed, would he be restored to life and action
'"


iv.] . LITTLE GRUB. 223
and doubtless also to the crowd of fellow-sufferers
around him, "Come, children, here is a beautiful
twelfth-cake, as you see, and lots of ornaments too.
But before we begin, we must draw King and Queen,
you know!"
Then there arose such a babel of eager voices as
Grub had never heard ; all the children were delighted
both at the sight of the cake and the prospect of the
fun before them, and they gave full vent to their spirits
and voices together. A temporary respite was given
to Grub and his companions, whilst the important
ceremony of drawing King and Queen took place.
This was done in the following manner:—
A number of folded pieces of paper were put into
two baskets: upon each of these pieces of paper was
painted the figure of a man or woman—the men being
put into one basket and the women into another—
and under each was written some amusing motto.
But on one of them was the figure of a King in his
robes, and on the other that of a Queen. The baskets
were then handed round to the children, and the boy
and girl who drew the two last-mentioned figures were
King and Queen for the evening, having the first
choice of ornaments off the cake, the right of settling
what games should be played afterwards, and sundry
other privileges of royalty.
So this was an important part of the proceedings
of the evening, and one which Grub could not help
watching with considerable interest, in spite of the
pain in his feet and the general discomfort of his posi-
tion. The drawing was carried on amid much excite-
ment on the part of the juvenile party, and as each


iv.] LITTLE GRUB.
portentous voice, the presiding gentleman asked her
to make choice of an ornament.
Not far from her side of the cake stood Grub and
his neighbour the Beadle, but these were not figures
to attract the notice of a lady. The Queen desired
that the cake should be turned round, and this was
done twice, in order that her Majesty might clearly
see all those from whom she had to choose.
Now there was in Grub's town a certain dame, the
wife of a busy local man whose precise calling it
would be difficult to describe, but who in fact was a
little of everything. He and his spouse affected to
lead the fashionable world of the place and to be:
somewhat better than their neighbours, and the good'
lady was always dressed in what she believed to be:
the best and newest fashion. It was therefore not
surprising that she had been placed upon the Twelfth-
cake in remarkably smart garments. I wish I could
describe them properly, and I would try to do so if L
were sure that only boys would read this interesfiihg-
story. But a girl would certainly discover so many
mistakes in my description, that, having a shrewd
suspicion that young ladies occasionally read these
veracious tales, I think it better to avoid being too
precise. Suffice it to say, therefore, that the lady in
question had upon her garments of fine texture and
quality, gay with all the colours of the rainbow, and
such as to render her, at once and decidedly, con-
spicuous among her companions.
It was not wonderful, therefore, that upon her fell
the choice of the Queen, and no sooner had it been
announced than the gentleman commenced removing
Q


226 QUEER FOLK. [iv.
its object from the cake. Grub shuddered with horror
as he perceived the point of the knife penetrating
the sugared surface of the cake close to the good
lady's feet, which made his own feel more painful than
ever. The gentleman, however, proceeded with great
care to cut away sufficient of the sugar and cake to
make it quite easy to lift the figure from its position;
this he accordingly did, and placed it in the hands of
the Queen, who appeared greatly delighted with her
new possession, and apparently entertained not the
slightest idea that she was capturing and enslaving a
real person. At least, if she did know or suspect it,
it made no difference whatever to her, nor indeed to
any of the other children, who went on choosing
figure after figure with the greatest delight.
Poor little Grub stood trembling there all the time,
suffering considerably in his feet, and seeing, with
mingled fear and amazement, the removal of his
fellow-townspeople from around him. His wonder
arid horror were greater than ever when the Mayor
was chosen by a small boy as his especial prize.
The Mayor was a mighty functionary—a very king
of men in the eyes of Grub; and to see him taken to
be made a plaything of was one of the most terrible
events that Grub could imagine, and made him feel as
if the world must certainly be coming to an end at ■
once.
But even this daring outrage upon propriet)' was
eclipsed by the atrocity of the act which assailed the
position of the awful "Beagles." That ancient and
time-honoured official was chosen by the King himself;
and Grub quite expected that he would instantly have


IV.] LITTLE GRUB. 227
arrested the King, or tapped him on the head with his
wand of office, or at all events resented the insult to
his office and dignity by some of those energetic and
powerful acts of beadledom which are unknown to
common men. No such thing! Old "Beagles " was
as humble and passive an instrument in the hands of
the children as any of the others, and when Grub saw
his red face, cocked hat, and portly person safely laid
by the side of the King's plate without the slightest
show of resistance, or even of life, he utterly lost his
belief in the existence of anything brave, great, or
powerful in the world in which he had hitherto lived,
and gave himself up to the darkness of utter despair.
It was still some time, however, before he himself
was chosen, and he was beginning to hope that he
might possibly escape after all, when a girl, with a
kind expression of countenance and with eyes which
seemed full of pity, came up to take her choice.
"Oh!" she said, "let me take this little boy. Poor
little fellow! how cold and miserable he looks—how
natural he seems. I will certainly choose him."
Thereupon the gentleman with the knife plunged
the point into the cake, and as the sugar broke away
a pang worse than ever shot through poor little Grub's
feet, and he hardly knew how to bear it.
"Oh, the poor little fellow!" he heard the girl's
voice say again; and with the very sound of those
words ringing in his ears he opened his eyes and
woke up!!!
Yes, he woke up! For all that had happened to
little Grub must, I suppose, have been a dream.
When his eyes were opened, and his senses also were
s
Q 2


228 QUEER FOLK. [iv.
wide awake, he saw no Twelfth-cake, no party of
children, and no room. He was lying in the corner
of the small space or square of which I have spoken,
crouched together upon the cold ground as if to wring
out of it the warmth which he could not find in his
scanty clothing, and with his little bare feet actually
in a puddle like that which had been the beginning of
all the curious things of which he had been dreaming
in his troubled sleep. For, worn-out by cold, hunger,
and fatigue, the boy had sunk down and fallen asleep,
and then the dream-clouds had settled upon him, as
they often do upon persons in such condition.
He could not recollect where he really was, even
when he was quite awake. All he knew was that he
felt very faint and weak, and ill, and that there were
real sharp pains darting through his feet, just as he
had fancied he felt them on the cake. The truth was
that the cold had seized upon his limbs, and the pains
he felt were very real indeed. But real also were the
sounds of pity which he heard.
"Oh, the poor little fellow!" were the words he
had heard in his dream, and he now saw and heard
that the person who spoke them was not a Dream-
land person, but a creature of flesh and blood. It
was a girl, too, with face and eyes as I have already
described her, who looked down upon him with kind
and pitying gaze as she stood beside him.
She was not alone, however, for she held the hand
of a gentleman who was standing by her—a good-
natured-looking gentleman, as Grub thought at first
sight, and I don't think that he ever changed his
opinion.


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iv.] LITTLE GRUB. 23*
heard from his daughter Kate that Little Grub was
intelligent, anxious to learn, and of a grateful disposi-
tion, and Mr. Kirby was a man who liked to encou-
rage such qualities. So he kept his eye upon Little
Grub, and frequently inquired about him. It was
some time before he could find out anything about
his relations and friends; for Grub's aunt (if aunt she
really was) had her own reasons for not being too-
well known by persons in Mr. Kirby's position, which
was that of a magistrate. However, he found her out
at last, but only to discover that she cared nothing
for the boy and was very glad to get rid of him.
When at length Little Grub was well enough to-
leave the hospital, Mr. Kirby determined that he
should run no risk of relapsing into his former idle
and useless life. Accordingly, he obtained for him a
situation as errand boy in a respectable office, and
told the boy he would keep his eye upon him, and aid
him to obtain an honest livelihood, if he would only try
to aid himself. This Grub promised to do; and faith-
fully did he keep his promise.
By dint of being always careful, punctual, active,
and attentive, he gradually won the favour of his em-
ployers, and was at length taken into the office as a
junior clerk. Here he still showed himself so intelli-
gent and honest, and withal improved himself so-
much by studying in his leisure hours, that he rose
little by little in the office, until, before he had yet
reached middle age, he found himself placed in the
responsible position of head clerk.
Nor did he stop here: being of careful and saving
habits, Grub had laid by money during his years of


234 QUEER FOLK.

with a total disregard for clothes) cannot play with
any comfort or pleasure. No, no, there must be straw
littered about, and a ladder to climb up on the top
of the heaped-up trusses, and lots of chaff and dust
all over the place, and then it is something like a
Barn! There should also be rats and mice at hand
—certainly the latter; and to make everything com-
plete, there ought to be a dear old sober, blinking,
white Owl living at one end of the roof.
All this might be said of Farmer Rendale's barn,
and everybody knows that Farmer Rendale occupied
the Old Court Lodge farm, which his father and
grandfather had held before him, and which his son
would probably have held after him if he had not
perversely died before his father. This, however, he
did, some years before the date of the story which
I am going to tell you, and hence the reason that
there came to be children playing in the Old Court
Lodge barn, and cheering the Old Court Lodge
homestead with their merry voices. For John Ren-
dale did not die until several years after he had
married Bessie Baldwin, and when his time came he
left her to fight her way in the world with four little
fatherless children.
Poor little Bessie! She had been the daughter of a
well-to-tradesman in the neighbouring town, but had
turned her hand cleverly to farming matters when
John Rendale bore her off in triumph from her town
admirers, and established her as mistress of the
small farm which his father had hired for him some
twenty miles from the Old Court Lodge. A good
little wife she made, and a happy man was John


v.] THE BARN EL VES. 23J
Rendale, especially when little Dick and Billy, Polly
and Jessie, made their appearance in due time.
Fortune seemed to smile upon the family, and
all went well until the fever came which carried off
the bread-winner from the farm, and left Bessie alone
with her little ones. I do not know how she would
have fared in this sore distress and trial, had it not
been for the good old farmer. He had long been a
widower, and it seemed to him that the best possible
arrangement would be that Bessie and her children
should come and live with him. So, without more
ado, he rode over to the little farm and settled the
whole business, took all the trouble off his daughter-
in-law's hands, and brought her and her family to the
Old Court Lodge farm, where they had been for some
time settled at the commencement of our story.
It was a larger farmhouse than that which they had
left, and the little ones were so young that they soon
got accustomed to consider it as their own real home,
and almost forgot that they had ever lived anywhere
else. Dearly did they love the place, and mightily did
they enjoy their games of play around the stacks and
in the rickyard, and especially in the old Barn, which
was indeed a rare place for such things. For some
time, however, the Barn was no more to them than
any other place, and they had no idea that it ever
contained other inhabitants than the owls and mice
which one usually expects to find in a building of
that description. Time, however, taught the little
Rendales a different tale, and showed them that
the old Barn had other tenants, of a strange and
wonderful character.
• >


v.] THE BARN ELVES. iyj
probably mistaken in supposing the sound to have
come from above their heads.
So, as nobody believed them, the children said no
more about it, but it was several days before they
again visited the Barn. However, it was too good a
place for play to be long neglected, and so in a
short time they got over their fears, and indeed
very soon became accustomed to several things
which at first seemed extraordinary. Shrill whistles
occasionally sounded through the roof of the Barn—
laughter was again heard more than once, and now
and then the children fancied—nay, were positively
certain—that they heard strange voices among the
rafters and in the head of the Barn, and sometimes
low sounds of music, inexpressibly soft and sweet
However, as nobody interrupted them in their play,
and they had no reason to be afraid, they very soon
took little or no notice of these strange sounds, and,
for more than a year after they had come to the
Old Court Lodge, continued to play happily in the
Barn without thought or care.
Dick was about twelve, Billy ten, Polly and Jessie
respectively nine and eight years old, when the circum-
stance occurred which gave them the first real know-
ledge of the quarter from whence these sounds in the
old Barn actually proceeded. They had been having a
good game on an autumn's afternoon, having esta-
blished some nine-pins on the Barn floor, which they
were engaged in knocking down and setting up again
after the usual manner of nine-pin players. All of a
sudden down dropped an egg, plump on the floor
just before them.


238 QUEER FOLK. [v.
"Hallo!" cried Dick, "there's an egg! And it
isn't broken either!"
As he spoke, the children all ran towards the egg
to seize it, when to their great surprise it began to roll
away all of itself; and although they rushed after and
tried to seize it, it dodged them all so cleverly did
this wonderful egg, that none could ever touch it.
Whilst eagerly engaged in the pursuit, they heard
a loud burst of the same old laughter over their heads,
and looking hastily and anxiously up, perceived the
laugher for the first time.
It was a little man—a very little man, for he could
not have been above eight inches high; moreover, it
was a comical-looking little man, dressed entirely in
red, with a black velvet cap on the top of his head,
and a short pipe in his mouth, which is a very wrong
thing for anybody to have in a barn, because a single
spark might do dreadful mischief. But no sparks
came from this pipe, probably because it was a magic
pipe, which could do no harm to anybody unless the
smoker wished it.
The little man had the most roguish expression
you can imagine upon his wizened old face; and there
he was, seated astride of the big rafter over the
children's heads, and grinning away at them as if he
had just heard, or else made, the best joke in the
world and was thoroughly enjoying it.
The children looked up at this strange being in
the greatest surprise, and stared as if the eyes would
come out of their heads. The little man laughed all
the more as he saw them staring, and then suddenly
stopping his laughter, he proceeded to do something


v.] THE BARN ELVES. 239
still more extraordinary than the egg trick. He drew
up his legs, turned rapidly head over heels, and then
hung- by his toes from the rafter, swinging himself
to and fro like the pendulum of a clock. Then he
jerked himself up again after a curious fashion, threw
his legs once more over the rafter, cocked his velvet
cap jauntily on one side, and looking down upon the
children with an air indescribably comical, exclaimed
in a clear voice, though rather shrill—
"Well ! how are ye, my chickabiddies, and how do
ye like the looks of me?"
For a moment not one of the children could find
words to answer, so utterly bewildered were they by
the unexpected sight of their visitor. Presently,
however, Dick summoned up his courage and replied
to the question—
"We are all pretty well, sir, thank you. But how
did you get up there?"
At this the old man went off into another fit of
laughter, so violent that the children began to think
he would certainly burst, or tumble down on his head,
or do something else equally unpleasant. However,
after a little while he recovered himself, and winking
at them with a comical eye, replied as follows:—
"Ay, don't you wonder how I got up here? It's
more than you could do, Master Dick, or your brother
Bill there either!"
The children were more than ever surprised at
hearing that the little old man knew their names, and
greatly wondered who or what he could be. So Dick
resolved to continue his inquiries, and accordingly
again addressed his new acquaintance.


240 QUEER FOLK. [v.
"Pray, sir," said he, " do you live up there, or where
do you live?"
"And what's your name?" shouted Bill.
"And why do you sit across the rafter?" asked
Polly.
"And why are you dressed all in red?" demanded
Jessie.
The three younger children having gathered courage
to speak, and being equally with their eldest brother
desirous of information, all uttered these exclamations
at once with great eagerness.
"Oh dear! what a lot of questions!" said the little
man, with a real or pretended sigh. "I don't tell
everything to everybody, you must know, because
if I did, I should have nothing left to tell anybody
else."
"But," said Dick, seriously, "if you told everybody,
there wouldn't be anybody else left to want to be
told, so that couldn't be a real reason."
"Couldn't it?" said the little man, gravely, "then,
perhaps it isn't. I never thought of that. But don't
let us argue; there is nothing such a bore as a child
that argues, especially if it argues with people older
than itself, and I am much older—oh! hundreds of
times older than you are, you know. Why, I'm older
than the Barn!"
"Are you really?" exclaimed all the children, to
whom the Barn appeared a place of vast antiquity,
and who accordingly looked upon the little old man
as a prodigy of old age, as perhaps indeed he was,
without any reference to the Barn.
"Yes! I am really" continued the little old man;


v.] THE BARN ELVES. 243
At these words the Elf who had been addressed as
Flitterkin, made a low and respectful bow, and turning
round to his companions, gave them the signal to
commence their games, which they were by no means
slow to obey.
And such games they were! you never saw
anything so extraordinary. They twisted them-
selves into the most fantastic shapes, turned head
over heels, jumped leap-frog fashion one over the
other, tripped each other up, and were evidently
up to all kinds of mischief; though all, as the chil-
dren observed, in perfect good humour. Then those
who were mounted on rats ran races, and engaged
in tilting matches with straws, and jumped over straw
fences set up for the occasion; and in short, indulged
in every kind of amusement you can imagine.
They were in the very midst of their fun, and the
children were watching them with the keenest delight,
when all of a sudden the door at the end of the Barn
was opened, and in came Tom the waggoner for a
truss of straw. In less time than it takes me to write
it every Elf had disappeared like magic, and the whole
scene had vanished from the sight of the astonished
children.
"Hallo, young uns," cried Tom, who was a great
favourite with the children, and always good-natured
to them. "What! here ye are, in the Barn as usuaL
Beant ye 'most tired of the old place?"
They all interrupted him with a chorus of shrill
voices: "Oh Tom! why did you come in just now?
you've scared away all the Elves, and spoiled such
a beautiful game!"
R 2


■344 QUEER FOLK. [v.
Tom answered, with a pleasant laugh, "Scared
't' Elves away, have I? Well, well, Master Dick, I
■expect all I've scared away will be back again pretty
soon, and no great odds if they an't. / never see'd
no Elves—but you've made a pretty litter on the floor
.amongst ye, anyhow!"
And so saying, he shouldered his truss of straw, and
(marched off. When he had gone and had closed the
-door behind him, the children waited in breathless
anxiety to see if the little people would return.
They were not long kept in suspense. First one
small head peeped out from behind a sheaf, then
another and another, and rats' noses poked them-
selves up from the most unexpected quarters. Gra-
dually the whole band of Elves stole out from their
various hiding-places; and in a few seconds the games
were resumed, and the fun became fast and furious
as ever. The children watched with intense pleasure,
and roared with laughter at the curious sight before
them.
Presently, however, a shrill whistle sounded through
the Barn, upon which the Elves instantly hurried off
again; and in a few moments the Barn was ap-
parently as quiet as if there were no living creatures
within it.
Then the children went home, full of all that they
had heard and seen, and were very much disappointed
when they found that nobody would believe that they
had really made acquaintance with Ruby and his
Elves. However, being sensible children, they soon
gave up talking about the matter when they saw that
this was the case, and contented themselves with


:S46 QUEER FOLK.

"Each child who sensibly attends
To what he hears and what he reads,
Well knows that Elves and Owls are friends
And vie in kindly words and deeds.
An Owl there was—a fav'rite l>ird
Who lived hard by in Barracks wood,
A bird who both in deed and word
Eschewed the evil—sought the good.
Some human fiends the other day
For jackdaws' eggs as they did look,
Unfortunately took their way
To this poor Owlet's fav'rite nook.
What could the demons be about?
The bird to home still fondly clings,
But clings in vain! they draw him out
And pluck some feathers from his wings.
Then to their kitchen garden nigh,
Enclosed by wall of lofty height,
They take the captive, wont to fly,
But now, alas! deprived of flight.
There was a tank within that place—
A feeble hoot the victim gave,
Then, sooner than endure disgrace,
Sought in that tank a wat'ry grave.
There in the morn his gaolers proud
The body of their captive found;
O'er which to-day our Elfin crowd
Wails with a chaunt of mournful sound.
Oh woe is me! a-lack-a-day!
How shall I miss his friendly hoot,
When on the floor the Elfins play,
And I, above them, smoke cheroot!
Oh, Owl so noble, good and bold,
Why dwell among those foul jackdaws?
Could not thy beak take firmer hold,
Thy talons act as saving claws?
Weep, weep, my children, weep with me
The murder of the gentle fowl,
For never on this earth can be
A better bird—a wiser Owl!"
And the little man rocked his body to and fro as he


v.] THE BARN ELVES. 247
spoke, and wept again. This made the children feel
rather unhappy too, and all the more so as they were
unable to afford the slightest comfort to their friend
in his affliction. Being personally unacquainted with
the departed Owl, they could hardly be expected to
feel so much grief at his untimely end as they might
have felt if circumstances had been otherwise; but
at the same time they were sorry for King Ruby's
•distress; and Polly, inspired by Dick's attempt at
rhyme, determined to express her grief after the
same fashion. Regarding the little old man, there-
fore, with a bashful look, she said very slowly, and
in trembling tones—
"We're very sorry, sir, your feathered friend
Has met witli such a melancholy end;
But pray cheer up—'tis counsel wise and sound—
It's better than if you yourself were drowned!"
Four lines were quite as much as Polly could at-
tempt, so she stopped here, and remained timidly
glancing upwards at the little man. The latter, how-
ever, listened with great attention to her remarks,
and after a moment's pause answered her thus :—
'' Why, so it is! I thank you, pretty Polly,
The thought does help to banish melancholy;
And since my friend is drowned, upon my word,
To drown myself in tears would be absurd.
A better plan I know, I'll shortly take
Dire vengeance for the murdered Owlet's sake.
Ho! Flitterkin! and all ye kindred Elves,
No need to hide ye longer—show yourselves!"
As he spoke, Elves came pouring forth from every
■quarter, but not by any means in the same gay manner


248 QUEER FOLK. [v.
or with the same mad spirit as on the previous
occasion. Evidently taking the cue from their King,
the expression upon their countenances was mournful
and dejected, and they paced the floor in slow and
sad procession. Then the King turned round, and
gazed upon his subjects silently for a minute or so,
as if he were pondering deeply upon some plan which
he was resolved to carry out. Presently he spoke
again, whilst they all kept silence in the most respect-
ful manner:—
"'Mischief,' 'Noisy,' 'Teaser,'—three
Of the wildest Elves ye be—
Hence! go seek the Owlet's foes,
Rob them of their night's repose,
Let them startling noises hear,
Fill their souls with sudden fear,
In their ears a singing make,
Cause their heads to madly ache—
When upon their beds they're laid
Call in rheumatism's aid;
Pinch them well in legs and back,
Try with pain their bones to rack.
When, worn out, they fall to sleep,
Softly to their couches creep,
Whisper dreadful dreams to each,
Cause them hear the Screech-owl's screech:
If they drop to sleep again,
See they wake with sudden pain;
Pull the blankets from their feet,
Roll hard wrinkles in the sheet;
If they turn them round and growl,
Whisper thoughts of murdered Owl—
If ye would your monarch please,
Try by every art to tease—
So that when in morn they rise
Unrefreshed, with heavy eyes,
They may think they never pass'd
Night so wretched as the list!"


v.] . THE BARN ELVES. 249
No sooner had King Ruby finished speaking, than
the three Elves to whom he had addressed himself
made a low bow, and darted off on the errand upon
which they had been despatched.
As soon as they were gone, the little King heaved
a deep sigh, and addressing his subjects again, spoke
these words:—
"Now, Elves, in sad procession gather round
To place our murdered Owlet in the ground."
Upon this there was a great stir among the little
people, and presently they all formed in double
line, and marched off towards the farther end of the
Barn in slow and solemn procession. Ihe King, as
soon as they had formed, swung himself lightly from
the rafters, and, alighting on the ground, marched at
their head, whilst the four children, full of curiosity,
stole on tiptoe behind, eagerly peering forward to see
what would happen.
When they reached the head of the Barn, first the
King, and then all the Elves, stepped through a small
opening into a shed, which adjoined the Barn, and was
used to stow away a variety of odds and ends not in
immediate use. The children peeped through the
side of the Barn, and were thus enabled to see all
that followed. Within the shed, on the rafters, on
the shafts and wheels of an old cart, and upon a
broken wheelbarrow which stood by, were perched at
least a score of owls. Most of them had pocket-
handkerchiefs in their claws, and the faces of all were
overcast by a profound melancholy.
The body of the drowned Owl lay upon some straw


250 QUEER FOLK.
at the bottom of the shed, and the rest of the birds
had evidently been waiting for the coming of the
Elves. As soon as the latter appeared, a low melan-
choly hoot ran through the shed, and pocket-handker-
chiefs were applied to the owlish eyes around. Then
the Elf-King gave a signal, and several of his fol-
lowers sprang forward, and removing some of the
straw, disclosed a hole neatly dug at the bottom of
the shed. In this hole they deposited their deceased
friend, having neatly and carefully wrapped him up in
straw; and having done this, they filled in the hole,
and once more covered it with straw.
As soon as this had been satisfactorily accom-
plished, the owls flew down from all sides, formed a
circle round the spot, and gave vent to several plain-
tive hoots, which evidently betokened sorrow. After
this the Elves and Owls all took up their positions near
the same place, whilst the Elf-King addressed them
upon the sad occasion in the following terms :—
"Ye Elves and Owls of high degree
Who love this venerable place,
Ope all your ears and list to me
In this most melancholy case.
An Owl is lost to Barn and friends
And lies an early victim here—
Us to his grave affection sends
To drop thereon a timely tear.
Since first this wondrous world began
Have Elves and Owls united been,
Both shun the busy haunts of men,
Both love the moonlight rays serene.
So ever may we be allied
And share each other's joys and woes,
And, far from mortal pomp and pride,
In Barn and Forest court renose."


V.J THE HA RN EL I £S. 2 51
Having finished this short speech, Ruby made a
graceful bow to the surrounding audience, and pro-
ceeded to lead his Elves back to the Barn, whilst the
Owls quietly betopk themselves to their various hollow
trees and other places of refuge. The children, mean-
while, who had watched all these proceedings with
the greatest interest, followed the little people back
to the Barn floor, at a respectful distance, and waited
anxiously to see what would happen next. There
was not much, however, to gratify their curiosity.
The Elf-King slowly climbed to his favourite rafter,
and looking down on his subjects with a benignant
smile, simply remarked—
"Our work is over, children, for the day,
To quiet nooks and corners haste away!"
In less than two minutes after he had said these
words every Elf had disappeared, and the children saw
them no longer. In fact, on glancing up to where
Ruby had just been sitting, they now perceived
nothing but a wisp of straw dangling over the rafter,
and a cobweb or two hanging on the roof.
It was evident that they would see nothing more of
the Elfin world that day, and therefore there was
nothing better than to go home to tea, which they did
with much satisfaction. This time, however, they all
agreed together that they would say nothing about
Ruby and his Elfin tribe, for they all felt that it was
very tiresome not to be believed, especially when they
were really telling nothing but the truth. They there-
fore said not a single word upon the subject, and
preserved a mysterious silence about their play in the
Barn that afternoon.


V.]. THE BARN ELVES. 253
have taken their share of it; the children, you may-
be sure, were sleeping safe and sound, and under
ordinary circumstances would have continued to do
so until morning. But whilst Dick was lying there
snug as a toad in a hole, and as fast asleep as a boy
need be, he suddenly felt a twitch at his toe, as if some
■one had determined to pull him out of bed feet fore-
most. It woke him up in a moment, and he sat
upright, rubbing his eyes, and exclaiming, "Who's
there?" within a very short time after he had felt the
twitch.
Who should it be but the Elfin King! Yes, there
he was, in his usual dress, and with a somewhat ex-
cited look upon his countenance. And as Dick stared
at him with astonishment—for he had never seen him
so far away from the Barn—the little man held up his
hand impressively and said—
"Wake the people up, good Dick,
Catch the thief and stop the theft!
Wake them up, and do it quick,
Else there'll be no apples left!"
Now the apples were stored in a wooden room
made in one corner of the Barn, and had only lately
been safely stowed away there. Dick, being a sharp
lad of his age, instantly guessed that something was
wrong at the apple-house, and that the good Ruby
had come to give a timely warning to his friends.
As soon as he had spoken, the little fellow disap-
peared in a moment, but Dick was by this time wide
awake with all his wits about him. Slipping on a pair
of trousers, a jacket, and his boots, he hastened to call
up Tom the waggoner and two other of the farm-
s


254 • QUEER FOLK. [v.
servants who slept in the house, and telling them that
he had heard a strange noise in the direction of the
Barn, with some difficulty persuaded them to get up
and see about it. They descended the stairs, and had
scarcely opened the door and got into the yard when
they perceived a gleam of light in that end of the
Barn where the apples were stowed. They hurried on
as fast as they could, but as they entered the Barn the
light suddenly disappeared, and they heard a scuffle
and scurry in the direction of the apple-house, as if
some one was making the best of his way off.
And so it was, sure enough. A piece of the Barn
side had been cut out, so that the thief or thieves
could get into the apple-house; and this they had
done. Luckily for the farmer, however, the rascals
had felt so secure, that they had not been content with
a moderate booty, but had begun to fill two sacks,
which they had brought for the purpose. Being in-
terrupted by the sudden and unexpected arrival of
the farm-servants, they had left behind them both
sacks and apples, and barely escaped themselves.
Nor, indeed, was their escape more than temporary,
for the sacks turned out to have been stolen too, and
led to the rogues being found out and punished.
But as for Farmer Rendale's apples, nothing could
have saved them but Ruby's visit to Dick, and when
the latter was praised for being so vigilant as to have
discovered the mischief which was going on, he could
not help saying that it was his friend the Elfin King
to whom the credit was really due. However, the
good people only laughed at him, and told him he
must have been dreaming, and he knew by experience


v.] THE BARN ELVES. 255
that it would be quite useless to try and persuade
them to the contrary. So he contented himself with
telling the exact truth to his sisters and brother, and
very well pleased they all were to find that the Elfin
King and his people were disposed to be such good
and useful friends.
From time to time the little people were seen by
the children, and especially, the Royal Ruby showed
himself at his usual post in the Barn so often, that
they became quite accustomed to his presence. Some-
times he would revert to the humour he had been in
when he threw down the egg, and would play quaint
tricks which were not a little amusing. For instance,
on one occasion, Billy's cap was suddenly twitched off
his head, and, without any apparent cause, hung itself
up on a nail quite out of reach on one of the strong
wooden posts of the Barn, so that he could only get it
by climbing up with some trouble, and when he had
done so, just as he was about to take hold of it, it
dropped down to the floor and lay there, just as if it
had never been anywhere else.
Then Jessie's shoes, which she had taken off because
they were rather tight, quite disappeared whilst she was
at play, and after a good quarter-of-an-hour's hunt,
they suddenly dropped plump down by her side from
the rafter above, whilst a merry laugh from friend
Ruby pointed out the aggressor.
All this, however, was done in merriment, and there
was no sign whatever of malice in the little King or
his subjects. I am not sure, however, but what old
Betty Hodges the charwoman might have told a dif-
ferent tale. She was terribly given to scold was


256 QUEER FOLK. '[v.
Betty, and upon the slightest occasion "gave it" the
children right and left, so that they were quite afraid
of her.
Perhaps this was the reason why Master Ruby
thought he might as well play her a small trick or
two; at all events he did so, more than once. One
day she put on her clogs and found them all filled
with tar. Another time her broom was lost, and only
found after much searching in an old cupboard at the
top of the house where she had never set foot in her
life; and on a third occasion, having taken off her
bonnet to do her work, she came back to find it
perfectly full of ashes.
This was very irritating to the old woman, as you
may suppose, and the worst of it was, that it had by
no means the effect of making her more kind to the
children, for she laid all the blame upon their shoulders,
and declared that "them dratted boys weren't no
good, no not at all, always after their tricks and tan-
trums, and worreting the soul out of a body every
blessed day."
The children themselves, however, never had any
tricks played upon them more than those of a trifling
and amusing description, and they gradually came to
consider the Barn Elves not only as beings in no
manner extraordinary, but as companions whom they
would have been really sorry to lose.
So time rolled on, and years glided by, until the
conviction forced itself upon the minds of Farmer
Rendale and his daughter-in-law that the children
were really "growing up." Dick was half-way be-
tween sixteen and seventeen, and as I have already


v.] THE BARN ELVES. 257
mentioned the ages of his brother and sisters at the
time my story began, anybody who takes the trouble
to calculate will be able to discover how old they all
were now, without going to a witch or a fairy to find
out. Both Dick and Billy were of considerable use
upon the farm, but the old farmer could not help
feeling that they required rather more learning to
enable them to fight the battle of life than they had
acquired from the teaching of their mother and the in-
struction of the master of a neighbouring village school
which they had attended for the last four or five years.
This school was rather celebrated in the locality,
being kept by a certain Mr. Whiting, who laid great
claims to scholarship, although those claims were pro-
bably not built upon any very substantial foundation.
It was something above a "village school" which
he kept, and the sons of the neighbouring farmers
and tradesmen formed the bulk of his pupils.
The school stood in the middle of the village, in
the main, and in fact the only, street—if such it might
be called, consisting as it did of a long row of houses,
beginning with the grocer's shop and Post-office at
one end, and terminating at the other with a sort of
toy-shop, where all sorts of varieties, from garden
spades down to lollypops, were sold by an old woman,
with benevolence on her countenance and a hump on
her back.
About midway between the two stood this school,
which was carried on in an upper room, to which the
only approach was by means of a broad ladder, which
was fixed sideways against the wall, much after the
fashion of the usual mode of access to a stable-loft
S


258 QUEER FOLK. [v.
or granary. Here was the work of tuition carried on,
and great was Mr. Whiting's reputation among the
parents of the boys. Especially did they think highly
of this worthy man whenever approaching holidays
were heralded by the reception of a letter from an
hopeful pupil to announce the happy event.
This letter was generally written on paper orna-
mented with sundry elaborate and fantastic devices,
and in a handwriting so preternaturally good as to re-
flect the most immense credit upon the worthy school-
master's system of instruction in the art of penmanship.
There were rather too many flourishes, perhaps, as if
the letters (especially the capital letters) had become
a little excited at the thoughts of the coming holi-
days, and evinced the same by refusing to confine
themselves strictly to their natural shapes and sizes.
But the language and sentiments of the letter itself
were uniformly excellent, and generally ran after the
following style:—
"My dear Parents,
The approaching season of Christmas brings
with it the usual period of relaxation from scholastic
studies, so necessary alike to pupils and instructors.
I trust that you will find my progress in those
studies to have been satisfactory, and that by con-
tinued exertions I shall ever evince my gratitude to
you, dear parents, for those educational advantages
with which your kindness has provided me, and to
Mr. Whiting, who has so assiduously laboured for
my improvement. Your dutiful and affectionate
Son, A. B."


v.] THE BARN ELVES. 259
This specimen will at once make manifest the high
character of school and schoolmaster, and Farmer
Rendale was for some time satisfied that Dick and
Billy should receive their education at the hands of
the latter. But something or other changed his
mind after a time. I am not sure whether some
disparaging remark from the Squire or Rector caused
the schoolmaster to fall in his estimation (so apt
are men to be influenced by a casual expression of
opinion let drop by a superior), or whether some
offence had been given by Mr. Whiting in some
Parish matter or other. Whatever the cause, how-
ever, it is certain that the good farmer began to
think less and less of the schoolmaster, and after
grumbling a good deal from time to time, and
thinking over the matter whilst he smoked his long
clay-pipe after dinner on the green plat in front of
the farmhouse, he made up his mind that the two boys
should go for a year to finish their education at a
certain establishment in a neighbouring county, where
a knowledge of chemistry was said to be taught, and
instructions given in "practical agriculture;" which
fine phrase very much struck Farmer Rendale, and
inspired him with the idea that the boys would learn
something which would enable them to grow wheat
at a profit at forty shillings a quarter, and escape
all the vicissitudes to which the crops of an ordinary
farmer are exposed.
So, somewhat to their disgust (for they had pretty
much their own way at Old Whiting's "Academy "),
the two boys were packed off one fine morning to the
"Agricultural College," as it was called, and left those
S 2


v.] THE BARN ELVES. 261
more than the lecturers and masters who taught them,
and that the latter entertained theories of which they
could not avoid thinking that their application
would be in practice attended with strange and un-
expected consequences. However, the boys did
their best, although they missed all the comforts of
the old home-life at the farm, and often wished
themselves back again, to visit the Barn among
other places, and see how the dear old Elves were
going on.
It was upon a pleasant night in July, when the
students of the College had been engaged all day
in a cricket-match, that Dick and Billy, who slept
in the same room, had gone to bed about their usual
time, and were sleeping as soundly and comfortably
as boys generally do sleep under similar circumstances.
As it was very warm, Dick, as is sometimes the
case with people in such weather, had kicked every-
thing off him but the sheet, and found that quite
sufficient covering for the night.
He had slept for some time—how long he knew
not—when he was awakened by a strange sound,
which seemed to come from some one in the room
evidently in pain or sorrow.
Dick did not quite wake up at first, for he had
had a good innings that day, and made a good
many runs, which always makes a fellow sleep rather
heavily, unless he is given to dreaming, which Dick
never was, save in exceptional cases after a big
supper; but he was sufficiently awake to hear that
some one was in pain, mental or bodily, and of
course he thought it was his brother.


262 QUEER FOLK. [v.
Being, however, still only half roused, he muttered to
himself, "Not out," still thinking of the cricket-match,
and would have turned round to sleep again but for a
louder and more unmistakeable sob, which evidently
proceeded fr6m the foot of the bed. He sat half
up at once, and glancing at the other bed as he did
so, perceived that his brother was not only still
sound asleep, but giving palpable evidence that such
was the case by certain sounds connected with his
nasal organ which proved it beyond all doubt.
Almost at the same instant, Dick thought he
caught a glimpse of something unusual before him,
and rubbed his eyes immediately, as the surest way
of seeing more distinctly. There was indeed some-
thing unusual.
Seated at the foot of the bed was none other
than the Elfin King himself, sobbing and weeping as
if his heart would break. There was his red dress
the same as ever; his black velvet cap was still stuck
upon his head, though in a less jaunty manner than
when the children had first seen him; and he had
apparently discarded his short pipe. There he was,
nevertheless, and in a condition which showed plainly
enough that he and happiness were strangers at the
moment. Dick stared in the most utter astonish-
ment at his unexpected though not unwelcome
visitor. Any messenger from the dear old farm would
have been welcome to the boy at any time, but of
course he was mightily surprised at the appearance
of this particular personage.
"King Ruby!" he said, after a moment's pause.
"What is the matter, and why are you here?"


v.] THE BARN ELVES. 263
The little man shook his head sadly in reply, and
it was several moments before he could bring out the
words which were almost choked in their passage by
his heart-rending sobs. At last, however, he managed
to proceed as follows :—
"The dear old Barn, to Owls and Elves
So long a happy home of ease,
Where Elfins might disport themselves
And Owlets hoot as they should please;
That Barn—so long beloved by all—
Which for long years has bravely stood,
Is doomed by cruel men to fall
That iron may replace the wood!
No longer may the ancient floor
Be sacred to our Elfin feet,
Our voices there may sound no more
When once the ruin is complete.
But with that fall come days of gloom
And sorrow to the Court Lodge folk:
Then hasten, boy, avert the doom,
And turn aside the threat'ning stroke!"
It may well be believed that Dick heard these words
with the greatest amazement and regret. Letters
between the farm and the school were not very fre-
quent, but it did so happen that he had recently heard
from his mother, who had mentioned that their land-
lord was thinking of making certain improvements,
but had never so much as hinted at the possibility
of the destruction of the old Barn. The very thought
of such a thing seemed to the boy's heart nothing
less than profanation, and there could be no question
as to the light in which the Elves would consider the
demolition of their favourite home. But if it should
really have been projected by the landlord of the


264 QUEER FOLK. [v.
farm, it would be a difficult thing to prevent its being
carried out; and poor Dick felt quite powerless to
"avert the doom," as he was requested to do by-
King Ruby. So, as soon as the latter had ceased
speaking, he said with eagerness—
"Destroy the Barn! # Oh, I hope not! But what
can / do to prevent it? Tell me, King Ruby, and
I will do anything in the world!"
The Elfin King drew a small and delicately
embroidered cambric pocket-handkerchief from his
pocket, arid emphatically blew his nose before he
continued the conversation. Then he went on—
"To-morrow take the early train
And hurry to the Court Lodge Farm,
Say that you thus return again
To save your friends from coming harm.
Wherever Elfin loves to dwell
Good luck to mortals will be near,
But those shall never prosper well
Who with our homes will interfere.
Then bid thy friends the Elves respect,
Who love the Barn with tender hearts,
For if they this behest neglect
We go—and with us luck departs."
With these words the little Being gracefully waved
his hand, jumped down upon the floor, and suddenly
disappeared. Dick thought he had run under the
bed; but a speedy investigation proved his mistake;
nor could he see the slightest traces of his little
visitor in any part of the room. Turning his eyes,
however, in the direction of his brother's bed, he
perceived that the latter was now wide awake, and
staring at him in the greatest astonishment.
On inquiry, he found that Billy had been awakened


V.] THE BARN ELVES. 265
by the conversation, of which he had heard the latter
part, and had seen King Ruby as plainly as his
brother. The two boys forthwith took counsel
together as to the best course to be pursued, and
remembering how good a friend the Elfin King had
always shown himself, and how little reason they
had either to doubt his word or to refuse to follow
his directions, they shortly made up their minds that
they would act as he had advised, and take the first
train home in the morning.
I am not sure, for I was never told, whether they
asked for leave to do so from the head-master of
the College. This is a point into which the curious
may inquire if they please, but I can only say, that, as
I never heard that the brothers got into any scrape in
consequence of following King Ruby's advice, I can
only imagine that they either obtained the requisite
permission from the proper quarter, or that they were
protected from the consequences of neglecting to seek
it by the wonderful power of Elfin magic.
Be this as it may, Dick and Billy took the morning
train, reached the station in safety, and walked over
to the farm, where they suddenly made their appear-
ance, to the great surprise of Farmer Rendale and
their mother. Still more astonished were they when
• the boys told their story, and eagerly awaited the
answer. The good farmer slapped his hand upon
his thigh with a resounding force as he replied, after
having listened attentively to his grandchildren's tale.
"Butter my parsnips!" cried he (which was a
favourite expression of his in moments of unusual
excitement): "Butter my parsnips, if this an't a queer


266 QUEER FOLK. [v.
start!" and then he proceeded to tell the boys that it
was perfectly true that his landlord, who was about
improving his estate, had lately communicated with
all his principal tenants upon the subject of the par-
ticular improvements of which their several farms
might be susceptible. With regard to the Court
Lodge, he had remarked that the Barn was somewhat
old, and withal rather larger than was necessary now
that the practice of stacking corn in the fields had
begun to be more gradually adopted. He had there-
fore proposed to Farmer Rendale, that if the latter
wished it, and would pay some proportion of the ex-
pense, he would pull down the old Barn, and build a
new iron structure, after an improved model. But if
the farmer had any objection, the landlord would be
willing to let the matter drop, and to spend the same
amount of money in draining some of the wettest
land on the farm, under proper supervision, and ar-
rangements for the repayment of the sum expended
by a slight increase in the annual rent. At the time
of the two boys' arrival, the worthy man was just
pondering over this knotty question, which of the
two schemes should he prefer?
Dick and Billy lost no time in throwing the whole
weight of their influence into the draining plan, in
which they were earnestly supported by their sisters,
as soon as they were told how the matter affected
their old friends the Barn Elves.
Farmer Rendale, who had never so completely
believed in the Elfin King and his subjects as the rest
of the family, still hesitated, from a feeling that his
landlord would have preferred to deal with the Barn.





º º - - º
ſº º
º - º º


v.] THE BARN ELVES. 267
But the pressure upon him was too great; and
eventually a letter was written back to the agent,
stating that the farmer thought the Barn would
answer his purpose for many years to come, without
more than trifling repairs, and that he would prefer to
have it left as it then was; whilst, on the contrary, the
land proposed to be drained was very much in need
of that operation, and he should willingly agree to
his landlord's proposition with regard to it. The
letter having been written and despatched, the family
talked over matters among themselves, and then dis-
persed about their several occupations. So the day
passed away, and the evening drew on.
It was a warm, sultry evening, and after the party
had enjoyed a species of tea-dinner, to which they
were rather partial, they all went out to sit under the
trees in front of the house, and to enjoy some of those,
lovely, comfortable, do-nothing summer-evening hours
which are so delightful, and unfortunately so few in
number in our beloved country. As they sat and
talked, time slipped on; the sun had done his day's
work, and the harvest moon was beginning to gird
herself up for her night's shining, and the cockchafers
had nearly ceased their humming, and the big bats,
or flitter-mice, as the country-people called them, had
come out from under the eaves and behind the big
doors, and flew up and down in their curious, uneven
flight.
Suddenly there fell upon the ears of the party the
sound of music; soft and low, gentle and sweet, at
first, it gradually rose louder and louder, until it
swelled into a volume of sound resembling some


v.] THE BARN ELVES. 269
each carrying a rider, issued forth from the door in
solemn procession.
It need hardly be said that the riders were none
other than the Barn Elves, who were all dressed in gay
attire, with crimson bows in their rats' ears, and
crimson belts around themselves. And at their head,
in magnificent costume, rode King Ruby himself.
His velvet cap was richly embroidered with gold,
stripes of gold were upon his red coat, and a diamond
star glittered on his breast. It was impossible to gaze
upon him without at once recognizing a certain air of
mingled grace and majesty in his demeanour, and no
one could have done so without feeling certain that it
was indeed the Elfin King upon whom they gazed.
The music, played by invisible performers, floated
gently on the summer air as the procession advanced,
ajid the strange Beings of whom it was composed
slowly filed round the yard, and passed directly in
front of the astonished mortals who were assembled
in front of the house. On and on they came, until
King Ruby, who was mounted on an enormous rat,
double the size of the others, arrived nearly opposite
the chair on which Farmer Rendale was seated.
To tell you the truth, in spite of his great wonder
at the scene which was passing before him, such were
the farmer's general feelings with regard to rats, that
he could scarcely restrain himself from seizing the
nearest weapon at hand, and rushing upon those
before him then and there. Fortunately, however,
his mingled awe and surprise prevented his following
this natural inclination of his mind; and he remained
with his pipe in his hand, which rested upon his


v.] THE BARN ELVES. 271
yet musical Elfin voices burst into a tremendous cheer
that made the old yard ring again.
The good farmer was too much astonished to utter
a word; and, indeed, before he could collect his
thoughts sufficiently to do so, the mysterious music
burst forth again, and the whole procession advanced.
Slowly they passed before the house, round the yard,
and up to the Barn; and then halting, gave one more
cheer of joy and triumph, and entered again through
the same doors from which they had emerged.
At last Farmer Rendale recovered his powers of
speech, and just as the last Elf vanished, he gave
vent to his feelings in exclamations of the same
curious kind as those which have been already alluded
to as his peculiar mode of expression.
"Butter my parsnips! Burn my bacon and beans!
Spoil my Sunday pudding, if ever I see the likes of
this before! Owls, Rats, and little chaps no bigger
than a hop-o'-my-thumb, riding out of one's own Barn
as if one had ought to have expected 'em! Well
1 never!" And for some time the good old
man could do nothing but utter somewhat incoherent
ejaculations of a similar character.
The young people took this opportunity of remind-
ing him of their old, childish stories about the Barn
and its inhabitants, and triumphantly asked him
whether he did not now believe in King Ruby and
his Barn Elves?
The old man could no longer hesitate. "Seeing,"
as he justly remarked, "was believing;" and he
could not deny the existence of creatures whom
his own eyes had undoubtedly perceived. He was
s~


272 QUEER FOLK. [v.
a little inclined to doubt whether all could be right
with people who encouraged rats, as the Elves
evidently did; but even on this point he yielded to
the arguments of Dick and Billy, who maintained
that since the presence of rats in the neighbourhood
of a farmyard was an almost unavoidable evil, it was
far better that the troublesome little animals should
be trained and disciplined to act as steeds for the
friendly Elves than be left to follow the natural bent
of their own plundering and thievish dispositions
without check or restraint.
It may well be supposed, that after the events of
that evening there was an entire unanimity of opinion
as to the preservation of the old Barn. And I may at
once tell you that it zvas preserved. The landlord was
quite disposed to adopt Farmer Rendale's views as
to the greater benefit to be obtained by draining the
land, and at once accepted the alternative. So the
old Barn was spared, and I never heard of another
attempt at its destruction. There it stands to this
day, a venerable edifice, sometimes wanting a little
patching up, but good enough still for all practical
purposes, and so much a part and parcel of the old
farm that one would scarcely know the place with-
out it.
You will all wish to know whether the words of the
Elfin King came true, in which he predicted pros-
perity to Farmer Rendale on account of his decision
about the Barn. Come true? I should just think
they did! From that day forth everything went so
well with the good old man that he was generally
known throughout the county by the nickname of


v.) THE BARN ELVES. 2/3
"the Lucky Farmer." No one grew such corn—no
one had such heavy cuts of grass—nobody else's
beasts fatted so well, and fetched such good prices—
nobody had year by year such a good fall of lambs;
and his hop-garden was annually the theme of
conversation and an object of friendly envy among
all his neighbours.
Dick and Billy, too, fully answered the expectations
of their best friends, growing up steady, industrious
young men, who were universally allowed to be a
great credit to their family. The girls both married
comfortably, and seemed to carry good luck with
them to the homes to which they were thus trans-
ferred. And as for the Barn Elves but here I
must stop.
The young people had arrived at an age at which
playing in the Barn had to be given up for more
serious employments; and, as a matter of course,
they saw their old friends less, and had therefore
less to tell about them.
Still, I have no doubt in my own mind that the
Elfin King and his followers are in their old abode
at this very time. If we could only look in upon
them at the right moment, we should see the little
creatures merrily gambolling, upon the old Barn
floor, or lightly tripping round the green where
they used to dance in the soft moonlight hours long
ago.
The difficulty is that we might go very often when
it did not happen to be the right moment, and then
we should probably see nothing at all. But if anyone
T


274 QUEER FOLK. [v.
who has read this story should still feel any lingering
doubt as to the existence of the Elfin King and his
faithful subjects, I can only refer the unbeliever to
Farmer Rendale and his grandchildren. If they are
asked, in a civil manner, for their version of the
history, I am sure they will tell the same story as I
have told. And they will tell you still more if you
press them very earnestly, and show that you are
willing to believe the matter. They will say that
although it is now some years since the events oc-
curred of which I have written, yet they have every
reason to believe that the inhabitants of the Barn are
still unmoved and unchanged.
No more processions have been seen, indeed, and
no one has seen Ruby sitting on his favourite beam
for many a long day. But the Owls are often ob-
served to flit quietly round the old Barn, and if they
are still there, why not the Elves also? Moreover, rats
have been seen more than once in the farmyard, and
although they were not saddled and bridled, there is
nothing to prove that they were not really elf-steeds-
And sometimes, when any members of the family
have been lying awake in the moonlight nights, they
have heard sounds which appeared to proceed from
the Barn, which they will tell you resembled nothing
so much as the elf-music which was formerly heard
in the same place.
So I feel perfectly certain in my own mind that the
Elfin King still holds his court where he did when the
children of the Court Lodge Farm were young; and,
whatever wise people may say and write about Elves


v.] THE BARN ELVES. 275
and Fairies having no real existence, I can only say,
that although they are perfectly welcome to form
their own opinion, nothing shall ever shake my firm
belief in the good little Ruby and his friendly Barn
Elves I
Long may they inhabit the old Barn, and long
may they continue to gambol upon the ancient floor
with undiminished energy! and if any of the young
people who read this story should chance to visit the
spot, may they be fortunate enough to be favoured
with a sight of the merry little creatures! But,
whether they are so favoured or not, may they all
enjoy the good fortune which falls to the lot of those
over whom the Elfin King keeps watch! may their
purses be full and their hearts light,—may the shadow
of adversity be banished from their homes, and peace,
happiness, and contentment be their constant com-
panions! • And so, good-bye to King Ruby and the
Barn Elves!
T 2


VI.
THE STRANGE CITY.
The sensation of dozing off to sleep in a railway
carriage is one by no means unpleasant. It is not
everyone who can do it. Some people are rendered
more awake than ever by the motion of the train,
others succeed in getting nearly to sleep, and then
wake up with a start; but the sensation to which I
allude is that which you experience when you feel a
gradual insensibility to sound and motion stealing
quietly and imperceptibly over you, when, at first, you
feel and know that you are moving along rapidly,
then you are not quite sure where you are or-what is
happening around you—and then, little by little, you
lose all consciousness, and sink into the charming
state of sleep which is to be envied by all fellow-
travellers who fail to attain it.
At such a state had I arrived upon the occasion of
which I am about to relate the wonderful history. I
shall not tell you whence I had started, whither I
was going, or upon what line of railway I was tra-
velling; because Railway Directors are beings of a


vi.] THE STRANGE CITY. < 277
susceptible—not to say a jealous—nature, and I might
expose myself to consequences which would possibly
be serious. Besides, I must honestly own that it was
no fault of the railway that the adventures-happened
which I am about to relate. The carriage was as
comfortable as possible. I sat next the window, with
my back to the engine—which I always do when I
can, to avoid the wind and dust which would otherwise
come in my face—and the care of an attentive porter
(whose merit I rewarded by the sum of one shilling)
had provided me with a feet-warmer, which rendered
my position as pleasant as it could be under the cir-
cumstances.
The circumstances were, an express train (though I
was not under it, thank goodness), a first-class car-
riage, a dark night, and a long journey to be taken
immediately after an excellent dinner and just suffi-
cient claret to make me feel that a comfortable sleep
would be extremely satisfactory. And sleep I did.
I was alone in the carriage, and there was no reason
why I should not sleep. I had gazed out of the
window at first, but, having soon tired of that, had
wrapped my railway rug closely round my legs
nestled back in the corner of my seat, and composed
myself for the night. Objects soon grew indistinct
to my eyes, sounds faded from my ears, and I have
no doubt—although I have no witness to establish
the fact—that I very soon snored like a horse-marine—
though why a horse-marine should snore more or
louder than anybody else is ^a fact into which I for-
bear to inquire, feeling confident that inquiry would
be useless.


278 QUEER FOLK. [vi.
It is impossible for me to say how far we travelled,
or how long I slept; we may have—nay, we must,
have travelled many hundred miles, and the time
occupied in the journey must have been considerable.
However that may be, I only know that I awoke with
a start on hearing a voice, which sounded so close to
me as effectually to rouse me from my slumber. I
opened my eyes, rubbed them, looked up, and saw
that we had evidently arrived at the terminus.
A person, clad in all respects like a ticket-collector,
stood at the open door upon the platform. Very
different, however, was his -conduct from that of the
men of his class whom I had previously encountered.
There was nothing curt or official in his manner, nor
did he seem at all anxious to hurry me in the pro-
duction of my ticket. On the contrary, he bowed
gracefully and often, smiled affably, and begged me
not to inconvenience myself in the slightest degree.
• "Pray take your time, sir," he remarked, "not the
slightest occasion to hurry;" and there he stood,
smirking and scraping, until I had succeeded in ex-
tricating my ticket from the inner recesses of my
waistcoat pocket, when he received it with another
bow, and with a profusion of thanks for my goodness in
travelling by that line, which made me instantly jump
to the conclusion that he was either a large share-
holder or a lunatic, though the two characters are, I
am told, not always incompatible.
Having alighted on the platform, I proceeded to
search for my luggage, and was much struck by the
attention shown to the other passengers as well as to
myself. There was no rushing to and fro, no elbowing


vi.] THE STRANGE CITY. 279
this man on one side and pushing that on the other;
no shouting "By your leave " to an unhappy wight as
you stamped firmly on his toes,—leave to do which
he would never voluntarily have granted, and the de-
mand for which is a cruel farce. Nothing of that sort
occurred; but on the contrary, everybody got out of
everybody else's way,—smiles, bows, and civility were
the order of the day, and the sorting and obtaining
of luggage by its owners were consequently accom-
plished with marvellous facility.
My luggage was not heavy: a small portmanteau,
despatch-box, and carpet-bag completed my stock
of travelling possessions, and a porter, no less civil
than the ticket-collector, soon hoisted the first of
these upon his brawny shoulders, and taking the others,
one under his arm and one in his hand, led the way
to the place where stood sundry cabs and carriages.
As we advanced towards these, it suddenly struck
me that the appearance of the place was new to me,
and that I had certainly never been in this part of
the world before. Not that there was anything par-
ticularly strange or unusual to be remarked; it was
evidently a city or large town which I had entered,
and it was only requisite to use one's eyes in order to
assure oneself that it contained a considerable popu-
lation. I saw this at a glance, for the terminus was
close to that which I supposed to be one of the prin-
cipal streets, and people were passing and repassing
in great numbers.
Many men would have been thunderstruck at
finding themselves thus suddenly landed in a place
entirely different from that at which they had


28o • QUEER FOLK. [vi.
expected to alight. Somehow or other, however, I
experienced no such uncomfortable sensation. I have
always found it the most comfortable plan to take
things as they come, and not to worry or distress
myself unnecessarily in my passage through life; and
it did not take me a moment's reflection in order to
arrive at the determination to take my chance of
what might happen and to make the best of it.
My porter walked up to the first cab and accosted
the driver in a manner to me unusual. "Would you
be so kind as to take this gentleman to his destina-
tion ?" said he; upon which the driver, who had been
sitting apparently in deep meditation, regardless of
all that was passing around him, turned round and
observed, with a lowly reverence, "Nothing will afford
me greater satisfaction,"
I was pleased with the civility evinced by both
these people, and, before I got into the cab, tendered
my porter a shilling, in token of my good opinion of
his manners quite as much as on account of the
trifling service he had rendered me. Instead of ac-
cepting and pocketing the coin, as I have often known
men do when similarly circumstanced, my friend
turned on me a melancholy and reproachful look,
whilst he clasped his hands resolutely behind his
back in a manner which convinced me of the sincerity
of his behaviour.
"Sir," said he, "what have I done that you should
treat me thus? Have you not read—surely you must
have read—the notices which our Company affix in
prominent places throughout their stations? Are you
not aware that passengers are particularly requested


vi.] THE STRANGE CITY. 281
not to give gratuities to the Company's servants, and
that any servant accepting a gratuity is liable to
instant dismissal? Would you, sir, tempt me to
disobey my employers? or is it possible that you
desire to get me turned out of my situation? Oh,
sir! what harm have I ever done you, that you should
thus insult me? Thank Heaven, however, I am an
honest man!"
I was almost struck dumb with astonishment at
this unexpected behaviour on the part of the porter,
and was at first inclined to offer him half-a-crown as
compensation for the insult I had apparently, though
without any such intention, offered to his sensitive
heart. I reflected, however, that if he had correctly
stated his sentiments, this would rather be an aggra-
vation of my offence than otherwise, and I therefore
abstained from the attempt; nor, indeed, had I any-
thing further to say: the porter stood in the proud
position of a man whose honesty was unimpeachable
and his fidelity to his employers exemplary; I, on
the contrary, felt as if I had been convicted of a
species of knavery peculiarly disgraceful, having tried
to tempt my poorer brother to his destruction, and
to undermine the whole fabric of mutual confidence
upon which doubtless rested the entire railway
system of the country in which I was. It appeared
to me, therefore, that the best thing—nay, the only
thing—I could do, was to get into my cab and beat
an ignominious retreat from before the face of this
paragon of railway virtue.
"Shall I drive you, sir, to the 'Temperance
Hotel' or the ' King Harry ?'" demanded my driver.


282 QUEER FOLK. [VL
I thought the second had the most comfortable
sound, and being entirely overcome by my recent
defeat, was only thankful to the man for giving me a
choice, since at that moment he might have driven
me wherever he pleased without remonstrance on my
part. Off he set, and the first thing that struck me was
the comfortable character of his vehicle; there was
ample room to stretch your legs, the cushions of the
seats were soft and clean, and the floor, instead of
being littered with dirty straw, as I have too frequently
seen in the cabs of the great metropolis of my native
country, was decently carpeted, and that with a
carpet of sufficiently thick texture to keep your feet
and legs from any draughts of air through the wood-
work below, if holes or chinks should chance to exist
therein.
The next thing I observed was the remarkable
quietness of the streets, all the more so, as there were
numerous vehicles passing and repassing, and plenty
of people riding and driving to and fro. I looked out
of the windows and tried to discover the reason ef
this, to me, extraordinary phenomenon. The wheels
of the carriages were all broad, but I do not suppose
that had anything to do with it. The quiefe prevailing
in the streets evidently proceeded from the fact of
their being all paved with some material like asphalt,
over which the heaviest carts appeared to pass with-
out the slightest noise.
We had not far to go before the cab drove up to a
large hotel, over the door of which swung the portly
figure of bluff King Hal depicted in bright colours
upon the sign-board. My driver alighted, opened


Vi.] THE STRANGE CITY. 283
the door, and assisted me to get out of the cab. Ob-
sequious waiters seized my luggage, and carried it into
the house without delay, whilst I turned to pay my
driver, and, ignorant of the exact fare, tendered him
half-a-crown. To my intense surprise, and I must say
disgust, I found that I had " put my foot in it " again.
"Sir," said the man, angrily regarding me with a
withering eye, "I am ashamed of you: I am, sir,
from the bottom of my heart; you must have known
you were giving me too much! One shilling is my
fare for the cab, and sixpence the driver. I have
really a great mind to summon you for over-pay-
ment; since, however, you are probably a stranger,
I will say no more this time; but beware for the
future how you dare to trifle with the honour of a
cabman!" So saying, the fellow mounted his box
and drove off, leaving me the victim of contending
emotions of shame, indignation, confusion, and, beyond
all, amazement.
Not much time, however, had I to bestow upon
the curious events which had just occurred, before a
middle-aged, white-tied, somewhat portly individual
approached me, announcing himself, with many bows,
as the master of the hotel.
"Sir," he exclaimed, in an anxious, even agitated
tone of voice, "are you certain that you have done
wisely in coming to my hotel in preference to any
other? The 'White Hart' and 'Fleur-de-Lis' are
both larger, and in some respects more convenient—
the landlords are civil and obliging, and their charges
reasonable. Pray, sir, do not honour me with your
patronage unless you have some particular reason for


2S4 QUEER FOLK. [vi.
doing so, and feel quite sure that you will be suffi-
ciently comfortable!"
I was never so completely taken aback in my life as
when I heard these words from the worthy man.
What on earth could be his object? was it a trick, and
was he really in earnest, or only joking? A landlord
to recommend a customer to go elsewhere, and decry
his own establishment! Never was such a thing heard
of! I was struck dumb with ■ astonishment, and,
coupling this new occurrence with the strange conduct
of the railway porter and cabman, began to imagine
that I had stumbled upon a city, of lunatics. Re-
covering myself, however, as soon as I could, and being
rather encouraged than otherwise by the modesty
of mine host, I replied to his observations by the
assurance that I was perfectly satisfied with the
general appearance of his inn, and saw no reason
for going any farther in search of comfort.
He thanked me, with a profusion of gratitude which
was positively overpowering, and forthwith conducted
me to a pleasant sitting-room, opening into a bedroom
as clean and airy as any traveller could desire. Having
slept so well in the train, and the morning being now
far advanced, I had no need for going to bed, and
therefore ordered a bath and some breakfast after-
wards. The former was furnished with alacrity, and
the latter proved excellent. I now determined to
walk out and explore the place, which I accordingly
proceeded to do. It had rained heavily during the
night, and in the metropolis of my native country the
streets would by this time have presented the appear-
ance of a sea of mud, the only chance of crossing


286 QUEER FOLK. [vi.
"Oh, it's you, is it!" he replied; "what a bore you
are, stopping-a man when he is in a hurry: besides, you
are such an inveterate gossip that if I stop for a
moment to talk to you you will keep me here button-
holed for half an hour at least. I really cannot be
such a humbug as to pretend to be glad to see you,
for I heartily wish you were at the other end of the
world."
Greatly disconcerted by this rude and totally un-.
expected address, I stood silent, and gasped for
breath, whilst Wilson, still muttering to himself words
by no mean* pleasant or complimentary, passed
quickly on, and continued his course along the pave-
ment.
Full of amazement, and turning over and over in
my mind the extraordinary things which had happened
to me that morning, I suddenly found myself close to
a yard in which a sale of horses was going on, which
I thought I might as well go in and see. It seemed
that the owner of each horse had to sell his own
animal, and when I entered, a respectable-looking
man, to all appearance a farmer, or farming gentle-
man (if there is any difference now-a-days between
the two), was endeavouring to sell some animal with
which he desired to part. His method of proceeding
was, however, most extraordinary to me. Instead of
puffing his horse and extolling its merits, he appeared
to be doing just the reverse.
"Pray, gentlemen," he exclaimed in an urbane
tone of voice, "do not be taken in by the appearance
of this horse. I am parting with him on account of
several imperfections, and should be sorry to deceive


vi.] THE STRANGE CITY. 287
you. He has been down twice; you can see for your-
selves that he has been fired, and I have several times
had reason to suspect that he is touched in his wind.
Don't deceive yourselves, gentlemen! Don't throw
away your money."
Whilst the seller held this language respecting the
animal which he desired to part with, the buyers,
on the contrary, adopted a line of conduct entirely
different from anything that I had ever seen.
"I don't call that a blemish," cried one. "Those knees
will come all right," shouted another. "Do not let us
rob the man, the horse is a good horse," exclaimed a
third; and each tried to stimulate the other to bid
a higher price for the animal.
Lost in astonishment at that which appeared to
me so entirely opposed to the ordinary habits of man-
kind, I was about to make inquiries of some one who
knew the town, if such I could discover, when my
attention was called to a noise in the street, and
•walking out of the yard, I hastened to make my
observations.
A man, clad in the garb of a policeman, was
standing in the middle of the pavement in earnest
conversation with one whose countenance and general
appearance were not such as would have recom-
mended him at first sight. This man was expos-
tulating with the guardian of the peace with eager
gesticulations, and evidently bent upon obtaining his
request, whatever that might be. Approaching within
ear-shot, I was more than ever astonished at the
nature of the conversation in which the two men
■were engaged.


292 QUEER FOLK. [vt.
versation. When I had before known her—it seemed
but yesterday—she had certain peculiarities which one
could not fail to notice. She thought a great deal of
blood and birth, and something of riches. Anyone
who was not in "her set" (whatever that might be)
had little chance of a good word from her; whilst
those who had the good fortune to enjoy that privi-
lege could do nothing wrong in her eyes. To-night,
however, all seemed changed. She was charity itself
to all mankind, and especially (which was contrary to
all my experience in similar cases) to the woman-
kind of her acquaintance. Lady A. was "so kind ;".
Mrs. B. "so handsome;" MissC. "so simple and
unaffected"—in short, she ran through the whole
alphabet without a disparaging word for a single
letter. She expressed herself strongly as to riches
having very little to do with happiness; spoke slight-
ingly of those who thought that a man was better for
having the blood of a duke in his veins than the
blood of a tailor; and rebuked me almost sharply when
I mentioned some one as being a person of " good
family," remarking that we all came from Adam, and
that it was folly to talk of being able to trace one's
descent from an old family, as whether one could do
so or not was entirely a question of the preservation
of baptismal registers.
I was somewhat taken aback at her change of ideas
upon this and other subjects, but knowing that ladie3
have, proverbially and by prescription, the right of
changing their minds when and as often as they
please, I did my best to make myself agreeable by
pretending to agree with her ladyship as much as I


vi.] THE STRANGE CITY. 293
decently could. This, however, hardly succeeded as
well as I could have wished, for, turning sharply upon
me, she upbraided me with being a humbug, and not
daring to manfully avow the opinions which I really
entertained, absurd and foolish as she considered them
to be. Nettled at this, I resolved upon beating a re-
treat with as much expedition as might be consistent
with politeness, and accordingly took the first oppor-
tunity of wishing her good night, and finding my way
back to the front door.
There was no difficulty whatever in getting away;
and as there were no link-men or other obnoxious
individuals of the like kind my feelings were not
hurt by offers to call my carriage when I had none to
call; nor was I pestered with requests to " remember"
importunate persons whom I had never seen before,
and certainly never wished to see again. Quietly,
and without molestation, I walked away from the
door and proceeded to my hotel, where, after medi-
tating upon the strange events which had befallen me
since my departure from home, I retired to rest.
I passed a remarkably good night; the judicious
arrangement already mentioned with regard to the
pavement in the streets effectually preventing the
disturbance of weary sleepers by that perpetual
rolling and rumbling of carriages and vehicles of
every description to which I had been accustomed
at home.
I do not remember any particular incident that
occurred next morning until the time arrived at which
I deemed it necessary to send for my bill, with the
intention of leaving the city as soon as I should have


vi.] THE STRANGE CITY. 295.
me, and drove to the station without further, adven-
ture. Once more wrapped snugly in my railway rug,
I ensconced myself comfortably in the corner of my
first-class carriage, with my back to the engine, and
composed myself to sleep as well as I could; being
uninterrupted by the presence of other passengers.
A pleasant dream came to me as we rapidly rolled
along, and the incidents of the previous day all seemed
to flit across my brain: once more I seemed to arrive
at the station—to be received with civility—to be
taken to the hotel under the circumstances which I
have narrated, and to undergo the same agreeable
experiences throughout the day. I have still a vivid
impression on my mind of the delightful nature of
that dream, and how therein I resolved that the city
which I had thus visited was one to be -regarded as a'
model city, whose example should in every respect
be followed by other localities in which the masses
of mankind have congregated.
Suddenly, however, I was rudely awakened from
my dream by a loud voice close to my ear, entirely
different, in tone and expression, from the mellifluous
accents which had greeted me on my arrival in the
strange city. In harsh and grating accents it ex-
claimed, "All tickets ready!" an ejaculation which at
once dispelled my dream and caused me to half rise
from my recumbent posture and rub my eyes, to make
me feel quite sure whether I was awake or asleep.
I had hardly time to determine this point when
another voice exclaimed, in a tone no less hard and
disagreeable, "Tickets, please!" and as I made no
immediate movement in consequence of these words,


296 QUEER FOLK. [vi.
the same voice continued: "Now then, sir; train is
late to-day—your ticket please ?" and in a half-waking
state I drew out my ticket and handed it over to the
individual who thus demanded it. The train shortly
went on at a slow pace, and in the space of a few
moments drew up before a platform, upon which I
saw a number of persons running to and fro in great
bustle and confusion.
"Any luggage, sir!" said the sharp, quick voice
of a porter who opened the door; and whilst I hesi-
tated for an instant, forgetful of the quantity of lug-
gage I had with me, the man passed on hastily to the
next carriage, evidently thinking that I was scarcely
worthy of his attention. I got out of the carriage,
nevertheless, as well as I could, and was immediately
run into by a fat old woman, bustling along in a
tremendous hurry with an umbrella, which she poked
so nearly into my eye that I only escaped by backing
hastily, in doing which I trod upon the toes of a
gentleman whom I should have deemed highly re-
spectable had not his angry language upon the occa-
sion contradicted such a belief. I attempted to find
the luggage-van in which I had seen my portmanteau
deposited, but the porters were all occupied with other
people, and I could get no one to answer my questions
politely, or to attend to my request to direct me to
the right van.
"Now then, if you please, sir!" shouted a voice in
my ear, and a gigantic porter bore down upon me,
laden with an enormous portmanteau on his shoulder,
with which he came lumbering straight on, like a car
on a tramway, and I could only just avoid him by a


vi.] THE STRANGE CITY. 297
sudden dart on one side, which very nearly caused
me to fall on my nose over sundry small articles of
luggage with which that part of the platform was
covered.
The scene around me differed widely from that
which I had seen on my arrival in the strange city.
Everybody seemed to run against everybody else—
there was a general scramble and confusion—luggage
was bumped down upon the ground as if the principal
object sought was to break everything in it which
could be broken—an object which I should think was
generally attained to the complete satisfaction of him
who sought it. Voices were loud on all sides; civility
appeared to be cast aside, for the moment at least, as
an unnecessary ingredient in travelling life; cabs
rattled; cabmen swore; old women with band-boxes
looked hot; old men with great coats looked cross;
helmeted policemen stood stock still in the most in-
convenient places for passers by; engines creaked;
shrill, awful whistles heralded the departure of some
other train just starting; a thin, chill, drizzling rain
damped my clothes and my spirits at the same time,
and after rubbing my eyes several times, stamping my
feet violently upon the platform, and looking right
and left at the scene of general uproar and confusion,
I awoke to the proud consciousness that I was once
more surely and safely back again in my own native
country!


ViI.] THE OLD BACHELOR MARRIED. 299
he had a great many relations. This is not always the
case if a man is poor; or at least, if a poor man has
many relations, they do not usually seek him out and
remind him that they are of his own blood, probably
because they do not wish to make him uncomfortable
by a contrast with themselves, if they happen to be
better off than he is, and consider that it would be
more agreeable to him to be left alone to work his
own way in the world without family interference.
But in the case of a rich man matters are entirely
different. Nobody wishes to disown or to forget him;
there is no reason why they should forbear to re-
mind him of the kindred link between them; and
the noble, generous, loving nature of mankind
prompts even cousins of the third and fourth degree
to display a laudable readiness to visit and cherish
him, to improve their acquaintance with him in every
possible way, and even to assist him in the distri-
bution of his superfluous wealth.
This particular gentleman formed no exception to
the general rule. His relations were numerous, and
vied with each other in their display of warm affection
towards his person. Nor did this affection diminish
with the progress of time, when it appeared less and
less likely that he would ever place at the head of his
establishment a wife who would be able to make the
house agreeable to those members of the family who
condescended to visit it, and be blessed with children
whose innocent gambols would render it still more
attractive to the visitors. On the contrary, the fact
of the property being entirely at his own disposal,
and there being no one person clearly designated as
X


300 QUEER FOLK. [vn.
his heir, appeared to have no power to chill or lessen
the kindly feelings which his relations, one and all,
entertained for him. They sought his society with
untiring zeal; threw over previous engagements with-
out scruple in order to accept his invitations; sent
him little presents on suitable occasions; were un-
remitting in their attentions and civility, and lost no
opportunity of reminding him of the nearness of their
relationship to himself; increasing the effect of,these
encouragements to his memory by such proverbial
expressions as that "Blood is thicker than water;"
"A man should stand by his own;" "Charity begins at
home; " and similar observations, by which wise men
of different ages have intended to teach mankind that
it is better to be miserable and selfish with your own
relations than generous and happy with anybody
else.
Our worthy friend received all these attentions from
his relations very much as a matter of course, although
he sometimes expressed himself towards them in
terms which, but for their family affection, they might
probably have resented. The epithet "blood-suckers"
is not usually considered one of a polite character; to
be called "a waiter for dead-men's shoes" is not consi-
dered desirable (although, if you are to be a waiter
at all, there is no reason why you should not wait for
shoes as well as for anything else, provided they are
likely to fit you when you get them), and the words
"harpies," "plunderers," "hypocrites," and such-like
expressions, are not such as are especially pleasing
to the generality of mankind, unless perhaps occasion-
ally when used with reference to somebody else.


3o2 QUEER FOLK. [vn.
and miserable to permit of out-door pursuits) was
sufficiently favourable, the breadth of domain around
supplied our friend's guests with varied amusements,
such as suit the hardy sportsman, the daring eques-
trian, and the piscatorial enthusiast. So the worthy
old gentleman never 'experienced the smallest diffi-
culty in filling his house, entertaining his friends and
abusing his relations to his most entire and perfect
satisfaction.
Things had gone on in this way for a considerable
time, when the incident occurred which was the cause
and origin of the writing of this truthful and remark-
able history. There had been a large party staying
at the good gentleman's house—a party of relations—
who had enjoyed themselves mightily, after their
fashion. They had habitually used to their host civil
and loving language, which could only be called fawn-
ing and flattering by those who like to take the worst
view of everything which other people do; they had
praised the worthy gentleman's taste, and manners,
had eaten his bread and drunk his wine, digested
his good things, swallowed his rough language, and
showed no inclination whatever to leave the family
mansion.
They sat one day around the well-covered dinner-
table, full of happiness, their faces beaming with
contentment, and very much disposed to agree
with everything and make everything agree with
them. Somehow or other, however, they did not
always agree among themselves, although they never
differed from any opinion which their host advanced.
In fact, they very constantly and materially disagreed


Vii.] THE OLD BACHELOR MARRIED. 303
with each other upon many subjects, probably from
a desire to relieve their discourse from a sameness
which might have been produced by too much
harmony. At length, however, the conversation
chanced to turn upon matrimony, and upon this
subject their unanimity was wonderful. Everybody
praised the life of a bachelor, and wondered how
people.could ever be so foolish as to marry.
Old Admiral Perkins stoutly maintained this view
of the case, although he was himself the husband of a
stately dame and the father of several innocent babes.
Brown, Jones, Robinson, and Co. all agreed ; and even
Miss Jackson, the eldest daughter of a respectable
gentleman, whose age was marriageable and who
had been hitherto unsuspected of aversion to the
other sex, declared herself of the same opinion.
The host listened to their various arguments with
great attention, only occasionally remarking that they
were a pack of fools, which was merely his delicate
way of expressing doubt as to the force of their
arguments. At length, however, he broke into the
discussion by a violent exclamation which astonished
everybody :—
"I've made up my mind !" he shouted loudly. "I
will marry within the year!"
This remark was followed by a great appearance of
consternation upon the faces of all the guests, who
began at once to remonstrate, in a mild and humble
manner. "Dear sir, I am sure it would not bei for
your happiness!" "Pray, sir, do not think of doing
such a thing." "Surely you would never introduce a
stranger into the family!" "Consider for a moment


304 QUEER FOLK. fvn.
how much your tranquil life would be disturbed."
"I am sure, dear sir, you are not in earnest!"
Such were the observations which greeted the
speaker on every side after he had made the bold
declaration above related. Unmoved, however, by
all appeals, he slapped his hand upon the table with
a force which made all the plates and dishes rattle,
and overturned her glass of champagne into Miss
Jackson's lap, and, in a louder voice than before,
repeated the startling announcement, "By Jove, I'll
marry!"
The matter was now becoming serious. With
common consent the relations set themselves to dis-
suade their beloved host from so rash and apparently
hasty a resolution. They pointed out to him the
happiness of his past and present life, and the dark
shadows which would hang about his future existence
if encumbered by a wife. They spoke of the tranquil
felicity to be enjoyed by one who had nobody else to
consider but himself, no other wishes to study than
his own; and who, surrounded by loving—might they
not say, loved ?—relations, lived in an atmosphere of
serene comfort to be envied by the multitudes who
could never hope to attain to a similar state.
With this they contrasted the misery and discom-
fort of a married man—constantly contradicted—
continually rubbed up the wrong way—obliged to
wait for breakfast till his wife came down, and for
dinner until she chose to consider herself dressed—■
probably (and here a shudder ran through the whole
party) distracted by squalling infants, maddened by
the eternal worry of hush-a-bying babies, and perhaps


306 QUEER FOLK. [vn.
tended to signify that they disapproved of marriage
generally, or in particular cases where it could be
afforded. Far from it; it was only rash, improvident
and ill-assorted unions which they condemned; and
as to Admiral Perkins, he quoted the happy expe-
riences of his own married life as proof of the great
and uninterrupted felicity to be obtained by a suitable
marriage.
For a moment it seemed as if this change in the
current of public opinion would have influenced the
inclination and altered the resolution of the worthy
gentleman. A spirit of'contradiction'urged him to
such a course, but a desire to do that which would
probably be annoying to the whole tribe of affec-
tionate relatives by whom he was surrounded, pre-
vented him from retracting his views, already so
forcibly expressed. He therefore said little, but
listened patiently whilst the party engaged in an
amicable discussion as to the kind of lady who would
best suit their revered relative. Then, again, there
was a great difference of opinion as to the height,
colour of eyes and hair, figure, appearance, and general
character of the fortunate being, until at last the
excellent master of the house burst into a passion,
and seizing the ivory ring which secured his dinner
napkin, brandished it wildly in the air, and exclaimed
in a loud and firm tone of voice, "The woman I
marry must have a finger which this will fit for a
wedding-ring, and such an one I vow I will marry,
let who will say nay!"
The effect of these words was instantaneous.
Miss Jackson, who particularly prided herself upon


Vii.] THE OLD BACHELOR MARRIED. 315
port herself under the sudden attack, but the chair
upon which she sat was by no means strong, the back
gave way, and in another moment both the lady and her
involuntary assailant were rolling together on the deck,
whilst several people who had witnessed the accident
were standing by in fits of laughter at the whole affair.
It may be easily imagined that the situation of the
two individuals was anything but agreeable. Here
was a respectable gentleman of a certain age, by no
means devoid of natural dignity and generally of a
staid demeanour, placed in a position in which
decorum was difficult and dignity impossible to pre-
serve: his companion being a lady probably of a
retiring and reserved disposition, thrown suddenly
into 'a situation utterly incompatible with either
reserve or retirement. The whole business was suffi-
ciently ludicrous, and at the same time indescribably
painful to the principal performers. As, however,
all things have an end, this curious affair presently
reached its termination, and both lady and gentleman,
having disengaged themselves as they best could,
rose to their feet.
In the struggle, however, the lady's mask had come
untied, and had fallen upon the deck, disclosing to the
gentleman a face which he had never seen before. It
was by no means a face which it was unpleasant to
look upon, although at that particular moment it
reflected no very amiable disposition. An angry blush
dyed the fair one's cheeks, her eyes flashed with wrath,
and features which, in a state of repose, would have
commanded the admiration of the most insensible of
mankind, were inflamed with a passion which boded


3i6 QUEER FOLK. [vn.
danger, immediate and dire, to the person who had
given occasion for such a feeling. Such, indeed, was
the old gentleman's impression, and he had barely-
time to arrive at such a conclusion before a violent
box on the ear from the offended fair one more than
ever convinced him of its correctness. Scarcely had
the buffet been bestowed, and that with hearty good
will, than a roar of laughter from the bystanders
awakened both lady and gentleman to the absurdity
of their position. The former, standing opposite her
victim and looking very much as if about to repeat
the blow, was an object not seen every day by those
who now enjoyed the spectacle; whilst the latter,
planted sheepishly before her and rubbing his tingling
ear, was certainly a very legitimate object for their
merriment.
It is impossible to say how long the spectacle might
have lasted had not the ridiculous aspect of the case
suddenly struck both the parties concerned; and
scarcely had the lady begun to articulate "Sir, sir!
how could you? How dare you?" when they both
looked at each other, and without more ado went
off into an inextinguishable fit of laughter. The
old gentleman was the first to recover himself, and
making his fair companion a most profound bow, he
thus accosted her:—
"Permit me, madam, to offer my most humble and
sincere apologies for the great, though unintentional,
rudeness of which I have been guilty. Believe, I
pray you, how truly and deeply I regret the misfor-
tune which has occurred."
"Sir," replied the lady, her cheeks suffused with


Vii.] THE OLD BACHELOR MARRIED. 317
blushes, "it is I who ought to apologise for having
allowed myself to be so angry about that which was
clearly an accident. Pray pardon my impetuous
temper."
"Madam," returned the worthy gentleman, as much
struck with the sweetness of the lady's voice as with
the courtesy of her sentiments—"Madam, I cannot
for a moment allow you to blame yourself—my rude-
ness was abominable, and I shall never cease to repent
it. Forgive me, I beseech you!"
"Oh, sir," rejoined the fair one, "it is easy to for-
give where no offence was intended, and I am sure it is
rather for me than for you to crave pardon for what
has just occurred."
"Allow me, madam," said the old gentleman, "to
be the best judge upon this point. I alone am in fault;
and I beg you to permit me to kiss your hand, in
token that you really forgive my rudeness."
With these words the good man stepped suddenly
forward, and taking the lady's hand in his own before
she could possibly prevent it, was about to press it to
his lips, when he suddenly uttered a loud cry, let it drop,
and, staring wildly into her face, exclaimed: "Here
then is my fate !" and fell at her feet on both knees.
It may be easily understood that an event of
this unusual character, or, to speak more accurately,
an event of such a character occurring in such an
unusual place, attracted considerable attention, and
the throng of bystanders increased at once to a
goodly number. Nothing daunted, however, by this
circumstance, the old gentleman bravely maintained
his position, very much to the surprise and consterna-


318 QUEER FOLK. [vii.
tion of the lady, who began to entertain serious doubts
of his sanity.
"Sir, sir!" she exclaimed in a tone of entreaty, " pray
get up at once! Consider the position in which you
are placing me. What will all these people think of
us? Pray do not keep up this farce any longer—
everybody is looking at us! Oh dear, oh dear!" and
at this period she showed evident symptoms of tears.
But the old gentleman remained perfectly unmoved.
"Madam," he observed in a grave and impressive
tone, " I have found, and found unexpectedly, that for
which I was about to roam round the world. Your
hand—or, if I may venture to speak more precisely,
your fingers are what I had imagined it would have
cost me half my life to find."
"Sir," interrupted the lady, almost angrily," this is
cruel; it is insulting."
"Not so, madam," rejoined the kneeling lover, "the
last thing in my thoughts is to disparage anything
belonging to one so charming as yourself. Such a
hand as yours can alone enable me to fulfil the
matrimonial vow which I have taken: let me then
hope that it may be mine!"
Unable to restrain any longer the conflicting
emotions which agitated her tender heart, the lady
at this point burst into tears, and, as she raised her
handkerchief to her eyes with her ungloved hand,,
those who were standing nearest to her were able to
perceive that the three middle fingers were all joined
together in such a manner as to present the appear-
ance of one enormous finger. This, which to most
eyes would have seemed nothing moxe nor less than


322 QUEER FOLK. [vii.
she should attract attention and possibly be exposed
to rudeness during her journey.
The old gentleman mildly observed that he should
have imagined that a person who wore a black silk
mask on a journey, whether beautiful or the reverse,
would be more likely to attract than to avoid atten-
tion; but perceiving that the subject was painful to-
his fair friend, whom it doubtless reminded of the
mother she was about to leave, he said no more
about it.
So they reached the shore, and with great care and
assiduity the old gentleman escorted his loved one to
the best hotel in the place, and saw that she was
comfortably located there before he thought of his
own wants. The next day he called upon her, and
begged that she would allow him to make arrange-
ments for their speedy union, and would commu-
nicate with her mother and any other friends. But
this, though gently, and not without shedding a few
tears, she declined to do. She had plighted her
word, she said, and would not go back from it. His
wife she would be, and he should name his own time.
But she would much rather not inform her mother of
the matter until it was all over; for the nervous irrita-
bility of the old lady was such that she would
assuredly be much excited by the news, and perhaps
rendered quite ill. Neither did she wish to proceed
farther on her journey towards her friend's house.
If her lover wished it, she would marry him in that
very town where they then were, but let it all be
done quietly, without fuss or bother, and they would
thus escape a host of congratulations and a mass of


* * --
w
VII.] THE OLD BACHELOR MARRIED. 325
desire, and took their passage in the next boat which
was homeward bound. -
Nothing remarkable occurred during the voyage,
but the lady showed herself on more than one occa-
sion to be possessed of a certain amount of temper
which the gentleman had not perceived before their
marriage, and it was evident that her disposition was
not so entirely angelic as he had supposed. However,
the voyage passed off as well as voyages usually do,
, and the happy couple proceeded forthwith to the
beloved country-seat of the bridegroom.
They had not, however, long been settled down
quietly at home before the old gentleman began to
discover that his old habits could no longer be carried
on as in the days before his marriage. It has been
already mentioned that he loved to assemble his rela-
tions around him, and to surround his hospitable
board with joyful guests. He had never entertained
any idea of changing his ways in this respect, and
after the lapse of a short time informed his wife that
he should like to invite a number of his relations, as in
old times.
Instead of receiving this proposal in the agreeable
manner which he had hoped, the lady tossed her head
Scornfully, and evinced a decided repugnance to the
contemplated gathering. Indeed, she went so far as
to tell her loving lord, that if his relations were at all
like himself the farther off they were the better, and
that as to having a parcel of riff-raff for ever hanging
about the place, eating the family out of house and
home, it was what she did not intend to put up with.
This reply was, as may be easily imagined, scarcely


33o QUEER FOLK. [vu.
that the lady was indisposed, and would take dinner
in her own room. The old gentleman was exceed-
ingly vexed and mortified by this proceeding, feeling
very well assured that the only indisposition from
which his wife was suffering was one of her own
invention, and arose from her opposition to his
wishes. He deemed it right, however, to make
elaborate apologies for her non-appearance, and
affected to think that she was really ill.
The dinner passed over as well as could have been
expected, although of course the absence of the mis-
tress of the house caused a certain amount of dis-
comfort, and deprived the guests of an expected
pleasure. After dinner it was no better. The lady
did not appeared in the drawing-room; and her hus-
band having gone out of the room for the purpose, as
he said, of inducing her to descend, shortly returned
with his left cheek so much redder than the other
as to give every appearance of having been recently
slapped, and that violently.
The guests looked at each other, and talked of
indifferent subjects, but all endeavours to make the
evening pass off pleasantly were utterly vain and use-
less. Neither the freedom of a bachelor-party nor
the comfortable arrangements of married life were
present to cheer the party, upon whom a restless
feeling of uneasiness seemed to sit like a night-mare,
chilling every effort at mirth or joviality.
It was to no purpose that the poorer relatives strove
to flatter the old gentleman. He answered meekly,
and never contradicted or insulted one of them; and
even when some of the boldest ventured to differ


vii.] THE OLD BACHELOR MARRIED. 331
from him in opinion, he mildly observed that it was
quite possible that they were in the right.
It was only too evident that matrimony had tamed
that hitherto independent spirit, and that the former
possessor of that noble mansion was no longer its
sole owner, if, indeed, any of the rights of ownership
still remained to him. He had at last found his
match, if not his master: and in all he said and
did it was evident that he bore in mind that there
was another, perhaps a superior, power whom he was
bound to consult.
Although these facts were sufficiently palpable
during that first evening, they received additional
confirmation on the succeeding day. The old gen-
tleman had again at breakfast to apologise for his
wife's continued indisposition; and there were no
more signs of her appearance than on the pre-
vious day. Moreover, none of the guests themselves
seemed at all in good humour.
Miss Jackson had found no fire in her room, though
the weather was cold ; and she declared that she had
been nearly frozen in consequence. Brown had been
placed in a back room, close to which water for the
house was pumped up by a machine, whose creaking
at a very early hour in the morning had effectually
destroyed sleep. Jones swore that some one had
played him a trick, for his bed was full of bread-
crumbs, most distressing to a tender skin. Robinson
had no blankets on his bed, and had shivered
miserably all night in consequence; whilst poor old
Admiral Perkins vowed that he had slept in damp
sheets, which would certainly be the death of him.


334 QUEER FOLK. [vil
upon the table, and she had sent the servants upon
some errand, and remained alone in the room for a
minute or two. No moral doubt remained in her
husband's mind that during this period of time she
had put something in the soup which had caused the
unpleasant results narrated above; but as none of the
party suffered permanently, and the consequences of
further inquiry might lead to an exposure which would
be highly disagreeable, the good man determined to
hush the matter up, and to pretend that some accident
had happened in the cooking. With this excuse the
guests were obliged to be satisfied ; but the matter did
not contribute to the success of the visit, which was
certainly as dull as ditch-water to all concerned.
Although the lady had made this stolen visit to the
dining-room, she was not seen downstairs during the
rest of the day, and once more the old gentleman had
to apologise for her absence. The guests thought it
strange, but could of course do nothing but express
their regret in polite language, and they got through
the evening as well as could be expected.
When bed-time came they retired to rest as usual,
and the host cherished a secret hope that matters
would bear a different aspect on the following day.
How great was his disappointment will soon be heard.
Retiring somewhat late at night, he found himself
locked out both of bedroom and dressing-room, and
would have roused the whole house had not mingled
fear of his wife and shame at the exposure in his hitherto
well-ordered household deterred him from so doing.
Accordingly, he passed the night as best he could in
his study downstairs, and strove to get some sleep in


Vii.] THE OLD BACHELOR MARRIED. 335
One of the arm-chairs with which that room was duly
furnished. But in the middle of the night he was
awakened by a scream in a shrill loud tone, repeated
again and again, which caused him to hurry upstairs
as fast as possible. The sound came from the direc-
tion of Miss Jackson's room, to which our worthy
friend immediately hurried. Ere he reached it, how-
ever, he was joined by several of the party who had
been similarly alarmed.
After a moment's hesitation, as the screams had
now ceased, they opened the door, and perceived the
occupant of the room sitting up in bed, in a paroxysm
of rage and tears. She had been awakened, she said,
out of a deep sleep by a sharp pull of the hair, and,
starting up, had just time to see a figure disappear
through the door, with a strange kind of chuckle as it
went. Hastily sitting up, she found that the figure,
whoever or whatever it was, had quietly cut her hair
quite short during her sleep, and had then roused her
by the pull which she had felt. Her rage and indig-
nation were extreme, and she vowed she would not
stay another night in the house for the world, nor
even speak to the old gentleman again unless the vile
perpetrator of so base a deed should be detected and
punished.
The poor man most earnestly protested his sorrow
that such a thing should have happened, and promised
to do his very best to discover the offender. He
entertained, however, in his own mind, so deep and
confident a suspicion as to the culprit, that he felt
certain he was promising that which circumstances
would prevent his performing.


336 QUEER FOLK.' . . . [VII.
But he had more to think of than the sad destruc-
tion of Miss Jackson's hair. It seemed that every-
body had, this night at least, something to complain
of, and that something peculiarly calculated to irritate
and annoy. Brown had found his slippers full of
water; Jones had two new silk cravats cut into strips
and laid neatly outside his bed; Robinson found his
new hair-brushes clipped and spoiled with his own
scissors; and old Admiral Perkins turned out per-
fectly furious, having jumped into a bed which had
been carefully filled with a number of black-beetles.
All these unhappy victims assailed their host with
equal violence and unanimity. They accused him of
gross inhospitality, or, at least, with want of autho-
rity, if not of will, to afford protection to his own
relations in his own house; and they threatened him
with the loss of their friendship and society—if, in-
deed, he had done nothing which would bring him
actually within the power of the law.
It was in vain that the poor man endeavoured to
assuage the wrath which was thus poured upon his
devoted head. He prayed, and begged, and implored
his guests to be assured of his entire innocence of
anything which had occurred to mar the pleasure
of their visit. He urged them to remember how
glad he had always been to see them in former days,
and declared that his feelings in this respect had
undergone no change whatever. In short, he said
he had anticipated great happiness from their coming
to see him, and was inexpressibly grieved that they
should have fared so badly, and met with such
strange misfortunes.





vii.] THE OLD BACHELOR MARRIED. 345
"If you say another word," chimed in the lady,
"you shall have a taste of my conduct which you
won't relish much better. Now be off! This is my
room, and I don't choose to have you here any longer."
The husband's anger was, as may well be supposed,
in no way diminished by this speech; but he had had
such unpleasant experience of his wife's actions, as
well as of her words, that he made no doubt but that
she would presently follow up her threat in a prac-
tical, and probably unpleasant mariner. Therefore
he deemed discretion the better part of valour, and
prudently withdrew, merely pausing for a moment at
the door, and telling the lady that he should take
the matter into serious consideration, being resolved
not to put up any longer with such abominable
behaviour.
To this parting remark his wife replied by throwing
a boot at his head, which he was only just in time to
escape by shutting the door quickly; and he heard
her contemptuous laugh as he walked slowly and
sorrowfully down the passage.
What was to be done? Here he was, married to a
woman who appeared to possess an entirely ungovern-
able temper, and to be guided by no principle what-
ever of right and good feeling.
This came of marrying with so little previous
knowledge of her who was to be his partner for
life. Bitterly did he repent the moment when he
first made his rash determination to enter the blessed
state of matrimony; and sadly did he look back upon
the happy days of old which had now for ever fled.
During the next few weeks he had, indeed, ample oppor-


348 QUEER FOLK. [vn.
upon a summer's afternoon. Suddenly, however, he
was startled from his slumbers by hearing voices, loud
and angry voices, in the road near him, and sitting up
in a half-awakened state, was still more completely
roused by the discovery that one of these belonged to
his wife. She was evidently very angry, and although
there was unfortunately nothing in this to excite her
husband's surprise, her words very soon attracted his
attention, and became ere long, no less than those of
her companion, of great and absorbing interest.
"It's a lie !" were the first words the old gentleman
heard her say; "it's a lie, and you can't prove it!"
"Not prove it, Polly ?" answered the deep tones of
a man's voice. "Not prove it? why there's several
of the old lot in camp now, and if we was to go up to
the old cove now at this werry moment, 'twould be
all U P with yer, my lady, and no mistake!"
"I say it's all nonsense," angrily retorted the lady;
"and what's more, if it was as true as Gospel, what
would you gain by making a row? Speech is silver,
but silence is sometimes golden, you know."
"Ay, ay, my wench, now you speak more sensible:
that sounds like reason. No one wants to blow on
you, not if you makes it golden to keep quiet." And
the man laughed as he spoke.
"But I am not to be bothered and bullied by
you and your people all my life," retorted the lady,
passionately.
"Don't be angry, Polly—don't be angry," replied
her companion; "there's no bullying nor bothering in
the matter; but when one of a party falls into a piece
of luck, there's no reason why the others shouldn't


352 QUEER FOLK. [vn.
know as I can rightly tell you who I be myself. But
if so be as the name as I goes by is the right name,
Joe Meakins be I, travelling tinker by trade, and Polly
Meakins be she—my wife as went off from me these
ten years since come Michaelmas, with the play-
acting folk."
"Are you certain that you make no mistake?"
eagerly inquired the old gentleman of the speaker.
"Certain sure," replied the latter, with a grim
smile. "There an't two living like Polly, for the
matter of that, with her three fingers all in one, as
you may say, on the left hand, and a temper such
as you won't meet with not everywhere."
At these words, and more especially at the allu-
sion to the peculiar formation of the lady's hand,
the old gentleman was more than ever convinced of
the truth of the man's story. Had he doubted, how-
ever, the lady's own conduct would have settled the
question. She had braved it out until now, in the
hope that the tinker's story might not be told at the
last, and that some lucky chance in her favour might
turn up. But at his last words hope left her breast,
and she saw at once that detection was near and
certain. Changing her haughty attitude and indig-
nant look, she burst into tears, and flung herself at
the feet of him who had up to that time believed
himself to be her husband.
"Sir, sir !" she said, in an imploring tone, "forgive,
I pray you, my deceit, and save me from the misery
before me if you give me up to this cruel man! You
shall know the truth. This man claims me as his wife.
It is true I was a gipsy-girl, merry and light-hearted,