The Hope of the Katzekopfs
Staffordshire!' And who may he be? I
wedded, look you, to immortal verse. Doctor Corbet, Bishop of Norwich,-'the wittie Bishop,' as King James the First was wont to call him-conferred on me the title of Registrar-General to the Fairies. Have you never read his 'Fairies' Farewell'? They say, indeed, that his poems, like many better things, are little read now-a-days; but you will find it among the ballads collected by a congenial spirit (a prelate likewise), Bishop Percy o
have left o
trar th
eserve the
th wise
of their
hat I co
store; con t
am for t
Churne, of S
d and pr
eale, can me
s both ol
m all giv
ye for hi
he Fairie
if it we
h the Bishop-Poet spake of me. I warrant you,
your riddle. You would not have us believe, would you, that a man who was born in the sixteenth century, was story-telling in the nineteenth? I fear you must be
that you have a larger share of the unbelief of this dull, plodding, unimaginative, money-getting,
mitted yourself to be, carried you off some moonlight night, two hundred years ago, and
wever, I do not say but that it may be even as you suppose. Perhaps, while time and
fifty years old! Why, your face must be a wilderness of wrinkles! And your dress, how strange and antiquated
be the case, it is more than probable that I h
g us! What advances have been ma
is another question. However, of this I can assure you, gentle reader, that I would
y do you
es; whether they have yet patience to glean the xviilessons of wisdom, which lurk beneath the surface of legendary tales, and the chronicles of the wild and supernatural; whether their hearts can be moved to noble and chivalrous
nny Magazines, and such like stores of (so called) useful knowledge, will condescend to read a Fable and its moral, or to interest
is my
Thames, and they are talking of a canal across the
not th
retail those 'hundred merry pranks' of Fairy-land, of wh
der, when I know how far your patience has carried you thro