weight of my labours. Conceive then my delight, a few weeks ago, at receiving a "confidential" letter from B. D., requesting the immediate transmission of my theological tomes to a country address; on the representation that, although B. D. well knew that my writings had been favourably received, he judged that "striking recommendations at this moment in influential journals to which he had reviewing access during the parliamentary recess, would prove of essential service." I wrote to my publisher, who coolly answered that it was "no go;" and I even stood the tempting shock of a second application from B. D., remonstratively hinting that, but for the non-arrival of the volumes, a notice would have appeared that very week in an "important quarter." The hopeful mind has difficulty in settling down into a belief that men deceive.

Not a month had elapsed before I received another letter, sealed with such a signet as in size would rival the jewel sometimes seen pendent from the waistcoat pocket of a Jew broker on Saturday, and engraven with evidence of illustrious lineage, if quarterings be only half true. I did not break this magnificent seal, but I tore open the envelope, and I found that my antiquarian researches had been most flatteringly estimated by a gentleman with a double surname, which happened to be familiar to me. The communication was, of course, "private;" and it expressed the writer's knowledge, from hearsay, of the "value, merit, and ability" of my book, and the satisfaction it would afford my correspondent, to give it a "handsome an elaborate review in both the widely circulating and reviewing publications with which he had the honour of being connected." A copy of my work was to be sent to his own address, or to that of his bookseller: or, even a third course was obligingly opened to me—"he would send his man-servant to my publisher for the volume!" I sent the book, and the same day communicated with the head of the family who legally bore this very handsome name used by my correspondent, and he told me that he had just received 5l. worth of books from a great house in "the Row," which were obviously designed to be the response to an application from the gentleman with a large seal, who was "an impostor." This may be so; but I have received an acknowledgement for the receipt of my little work, so kind and courtly in its tone, that I do not even yet quite despair of one day reading the promised "handsome and elaborate review."

A SMALL AUTHOR.

FOLK LORE.

Valentine's Day—Superstition in Devonshire.

—The peasants and others believe that if they go to the porch of a church, waiting there till half-past twelve o'clock on the eve of St. Valentine's day, with some hempseed in his or her hand, and at the time above-named then proceed homewards, scattering the seed on either side, repeating these lines—

his or her true love will be seen behind, raking up the seed just sown, in a winding-sheet. Do any of your readers know the origin of this superstitious custom?

J. S. A.

Old Broad Street.

Fairies.

—An Irish servant of mine, a native of Galway, gave me the following relations:—Her father was a blacksmith and for his many acts of benevolence to benighted travellers became a great favourite with the fairies, who paid him many visits. It was customary for the fairies to visit his forge at night, after the family had retired to rest, and here go to work in such right good earnest, as to complete, on all occasions, the work which had been left overnight unfinished. The family were on these occasions awoke from their slumber by the vigorous puffing of bellows, and hammering on anvil, consequent upon these illustrious habits of the fairies, and it was an invariable rule for the fairies to replace all the tools they had used during the night; and, moreover, if the smithy had been left in confusion the previous evening, the "good people" always arranged it, swept the floor, and restored everything to order before the morning. I never could glean from her any detailed instances of the labour accomplished in this way, or indeed anything which might aid in the formation of an estimate of the relative skill of the fairies in manual labour; and I must confess that on these subjects I never question too closely,—the reader will know why.

On one occasion, one of the family happening to be unwell, the father went back to the smithy at midnight for some medicine which had been left there on the shelf, and put the "good people" to flight, just as they had begun their industrial orgies. To disturb the fairies is at any time a perilous thing; and so it proved to him: for a fat pig died the following day, little Tike had the measles, too, after, and no end of misfortunes followed. In addition to this occult revenge, the inmates of the house were kept awake for several nights by a noise similar to that which would be produced by peas being pelted at the windows. The statement was made with an earnestness of manner which betrayed a faith without scruples.

SHIRLEY HIBBERD.

Minor Notes.

Lines in Whispering Gallery at Gloucester Cathedral.

—The following verse is inscribed in the Whispering Gallery of Gloucester Cathedral; to preserve it, and as a "Note" to the fourth stanza of the "Ditty" I inserted in Vol iv., p. 311., I copied it for "N. & Q."