are said to be inhabited by Elves. Before festival-days, great noises are heard in them, as of the clattering of copper kettles, and the opening and shutting of large chests; and sometimes, also, music.-A poor peasant, who was at work upon Gillesbierg, lay down to rest about mid-day, when there suddenly appeared before him a beautiful maiden, holding a gold cup in her hand, and beckoning to him. But as the peasant was afraid, and sained himself, she turned away, and he observed that her back was hollow like a kneading trough.

At Gudmandstrup, in the Lordship of Odd, is a hill called Wheelhill. The Élves that live in this hill are well known in the adjacent towns, and no one forgets to sain his ale cask, as the Elves from Wheel-hill often creep in and steal the ale.

A peasant passing the hill late one evening, saw that it stood upon red pillars, and under it were music and dancing, and a splendid fairy banquet. As the peasant was observing their merriment, the music and dancing suddenly ceased, and in the midst of loud lamentations, he heard an Elf cry out, "Skotte has fallen in the fire! Come and help him up!"-The hill sank, and all was still.

In the meantime the peasant's wife was sitting at home spinning her tow, not aware that an Elf had crept in at the window of the next room, and was drawing off the liquor from her ale-barrel into his copper kettle.

The door stood open, and the Elf was keeping a sharp eye upon the good woman's motions, when her husband came into the room in a state of astonishment, and told her all he had seen and heard. When he came to "Skotte has fallen in the fire!Come and help him up!" the Elf dropt the spigot, kettle, and ale, on the floor, and whisked off through the window.-Alarmed by the noise, they soon discovered what kind of á guest they had had; and to indem nify themselves for their ale that had been spilled, they took possession of the Elf's copper kettle, which is said to have been long preserved as a

*To sain, is literally, to sign, i. e. with the cross.

token, and shewn about the neighbourhood.

One night an Elf came to a midwife in Bingsberg, in the Lordship of Odd, and requested that she would go down with him to Hafvehöi, to help his wife. When she came there, she was obliged to go under the earth with him. She was well treated in Fairy-land, and restored in perfect security to the light of day; but, having afterwards blabbed of what she had seen under the hill, she lost her sight.

At Ouröe, near Jægerspriis, is a large knoll called Steensbierg. That there are Fairies in this knoll is well known in the neighbourhood, as noises (as of shutting and opening large chests) are often heard to proceed from it. It is, moreover, notorious, that the pantries of the peasants in the vicinity are often plundered by the Elves. Once on a time, Neil Jensen, who lived close to the knoll, having remarked that they made unmercifully free with his store-room, locked the door by which they were accustomed to enter; but shortly after, his daughter became stone-blind, and did not recover her sight till her father unlocked the

door.

A peasant once found an Elf sitting dejected and cogitabund, upon a stone between Mullerup and Dalby, in the neighbourhood of the Tiis Lake. The good man, who at first took him for a decent Christian, asked him "whether he was bound?"—“ I'l leave this country," said the Elf; "for there is no living here now, for the continual jangling and clatching of bells."

In Kundebye, in the Bailiewick of Holbeck, an Elf had his habitation in the high ridge on which the church stands; but after the people in that quarter began to have the fear of God about them, and to be assiduous in their attendance at church, the Elf was kept in continual torment by the unceasing clatter of the bells in the church steeple. At last he could stand it no longer, and left the place; for nothing has tended so much to clear the country of Elves, as the increase of godliness in

the people, and the ringing of consecrated bells.

After leaving Kundebye, the Elf went to Fyen, where he resided for some time; and it so fell out, that a man who had lately taken up his residence in Kundebye, came to Fyen, and met the Elf on the road. "Where may you be, when at home?" said the Elf." I am from Kundebye," said the man, little suspecting what kind of personage it was by whom he was accosted." Aye, indeed!" said the Elf; "I thought I knew everybody in Kundebye, but I know nothing of you.-Will you carry a letter to Kundebye for me?"-"With all my heart!" said the man; and the Elf put it into his pocket, and injoined him strictly not to take it from thence, till he came to Kundebye Kirk, and then to throw it over the church-yard wall, and the person to whom it was addressed would be sure to find it. On this they parted, and the man thought no more of the letter. But after he returned to Zealand, as he sat on the meadow where the Tiis Lake now is, all at once he recollected the Elf's letter, and was seized with an irresistible desire to see it. Accordingly he took it out of his pocket; and after he had sat some time with it in his hand, water began to bubble out of the seal; the letter unfolded itself; and it was with great difficulty that the peasant escaped with his life; for the elf had inclosed a whole lake in the letter, which was intended to drown Kundebye Kirk and its bells, for the trouble they had given

him.

When Esbern Snare set about building a church for Kallundborg, he found that he could not accomplish it. Then came an Elf to him, and offered his services; and Esbern Snare made an agreement with him, upon these conditions, that he should repeat the Elf's name when the church was finished, or otherwise, forfeit his heart and eyes.-The work now went on at a fine rate, and the Elf bullt the church upon stone pillars; but when it was nearly complete, and only one half pillar was wanting, Esbern Snare was not a little alarmed at finding that he had forgot the Elf's name. He wander

ed out into fields, musing and beating his brains to no purpose, till, quite worn out with sorrow and anxiety, he lay down upon Ulshöi bank to rest, when he heard, under the hill, an Elf-woman singing to her child,

"Lullaby lully, baby mine;

"To-morrow comes thy father FINE, "And you shall have to play with, syne, "Esbern Snare's heart and eyne." On hearing this, Esbern returned in high glee to the church, just as the Elf had arrived with the other half of the stone pillar which was wanting. As soon as Esbern saw him, he hailed him by his name ; and the Elf was in such a rage, that he flew off through the air, carrying with him the half pillar; and that is the reason why the church has only three pillars and a half to support it.

Near Tiis Lake lived an honest couple by themselves, who were sorely plagued by a changeling that had been left in place of their child (which had not been christened in due time) by the Elves. This oaf, when alone, indulged himself in the most extraordinary freaks, and was in a state of incessant activity, scrambling up the walls like a cat, and howling and screeching under the eaves; but when any one was in the room with him, he sat dozing at the end of the table. He could eat as much as four people; devoured whatever was set before him; was never satisfied; and was a perfect nuisance in the house. As they found it impossible to make any good of him, they had long sought for means of a happy riddance; and at last a clever wench pledged herself to send bim a-packing. For this purpose, she killed a pig, which she boiled, hide and hair, in a haggis, and set before him. He immediately began to cut away and gobble up with his usual voracity; but gradually relaxed his eagerness, and finally sat still with the knife in his hand, staring with astonishment at the haggis. At length he cried out,

Haggis with hide-and haggis with hair!-Haggis with eyes-and haggis with bones!-I have lived to see the wood upon Tiis Lake thrice renewed, but never saw such a haggis!-Now, may the d-1 stay longer for me!" With these words he fled

from the place, and never returned again.

In the Bailliwick of Holbek, between the towns of Mamp and Aagerup, there once was a castle, the ruins of which still remain, near the Strand. In this place, as the story goes, are immense treasures concealed; and a dragon broods over as much gold as would ransom three kings. Here the subterraneans (Elves) are often seen, especially at festival times. One Christmas-eve, a ploughman in Aagerup went to his master, and asked his permission to ride down and take a peep at the Elfbanquet. The farmer gave him leave to go, and take with him the best horse in the stable. When the fellow came to the place, he stopt his horse for some time, to view the entertainment, astonished at the agility with which the little dapper folks were "linking away" in the dance, At last an Elf-mannikin came to him and begged him to dismount, and take part in their merriment. Another Elf skipped up and held his horse, while he danced with them the whole night. As morning approached, he thanked them for his entertainment, and mounted his horse, to ride back to Aagerup. They then invited him to come again next Newyear's night, to share their jollity; and a young lady offered him the stirrup-draught in a gold cup. But as he mistrusted their courtesy, he cast the liquor over his shoulder, which, falling on the back of his horse, singed off the hair. He then clapped spurs to his horse, and set off at full gallop, with the cup in his hand, over a field of ploughed land. The whole posse of the Elves immediately gave chace; but found such difficulty in scrambling over the heavy deep furrows, that they ever and anon screamed out,

"Ride on the sod,
And not on the clod."

As the adventurer approached the town, he was obliged to take to the open road, which brought him in great jeopardy, as the Elves were every instant gaining ground on him. In this extremity, he prayed to God, and vowed, if he escaped, to give the cup to the church. As he rode past the church-yard, he threw the cup

over the wall into the consecrated ground, that it at least might be secured. At last he reached the town; and just as they had almost got hold of him, his horse made a spring in at his master's gate, which the fellow shut after him. He was now secure; but the Elves were so exasperated, that they threw a stone at the gate with such force, that it knocked four planks out of it.

No traces of the house now remain; but the stone still lies in Aagerup. The cup was presented to the church; and the ploughman got as a reward the best house upon Ericksholm estate.

Between Jerslöse and Söbierg, lies Söbierg bank, which is the richest knoll in the land, and no tongue can tell what fine things it contains. In this knoll lives an Elf-lady, on whose account a splendid cavalcade_once proceeded from Steen-lille Mark, on the occasion of her being married to the Elf of Gultebierg.

It often happens, when people are passing the knoll in fine weather, that they see the most curious copper utensils, and the most beautiful cushions, laid out upon the ridge of the knoll to be sunned; and, if they approach nearer, they can see the hurry and bustle of the little folks removing them as fast as possible into the hill.

LOCAL ASSOCIATIONS OF POETRY—

COWPER-LORD BYRON.

MR EDITOR,

THE poetical yet just remarks of your correspondent who made a Trip to Carlisle by Ellisland, have convinced me that you are not unwilling to admit into your Magazine the natural admiration of an honest mind for genuine poetry, and the visionary impulse of a warm heart, when treading the ground once hallowed by the presence and the associations of a favourite poet. Yet, when I mention the correspondent who praises Burns in terms inspired by Burns's muse, let me deprecate any comparison with his ardent composition, while I give you a simple statement of my visit to Olney and Wester-Underwood.— I have still greater reason to entreat indulgence for the uniformity and

tameness of the whole of my narrative; for as far as the eye can roam round Olney, no spot can be found for romantic adventure, for the dear flight of lovers, or the unpitied misery of their prudent parents. Judges, placid or the reverse-barristers of every variety of phiz and curvature of wig, 66 flippant, pert, and full of play"- -are as unknown in Cowper's consecrated haunts, as enchanted castles and chivalrous knights-er

rant.

Having quitted the great London Road at Newport Pagnell, I walked from the Swan there, across the fields to Emberton, a distance of about four miles. The path was secluded and pleasant, and the elevations to which it occasionally conducted, afforded views of immense extent, and of every variety of cultivated scenery. This to me was a luxury of the highest order-but in Scotland you know it not. The well-educated natives of the North must travel only in the same course with dray-horses and stone-waggons. At your peril dare to soil, with your vulgar toes, the lawns and grassy banks of the squire. “England, with all thy faults, I love

Sees her unwrinkl'd face reflected bright."

This bridge is, in fact, the turnpike road over a considerable extent of meadow, and is arched, for the purpose of protection from the Ouse, which in winter extends its dominion over all the plain. At this time the poet's river was modest, and restrained its volume within one respectable arch. I sat on the parapet at the extreme end, and mused on the sweet enthusiast, whose genius shed its influence on all he touched, -when I was discomposed by one of those incidents from which human life is never secure. A huge sow came waddling along, and laid herself stretched in the mire which plentifully covered the middle of the road.

VOL. IX.

She seemed, and probably felt, in fact, as comfortable as any prelate of the realm dozing in his stately stall. I involuntarily wished that Wordsworth were by, to appreciate her feelings and celebrate her philosophy. At that moment I thought I descried Peter Bell riding up, on a humble jack-ass. It was in truth a venerable man, tall and aged, and I feared, as he approached, that his feet might sweep the filthy mud. But another annoyance was his doom. The sagacious and prudent ass deemed that Beelzebub himself lay stretched in the way, and forward he would not be driven. Again and again was the effort made, but the heels below and the cudgel above failed to inspire resolution into the perverse donkey. The defeated and grieved Peter descended to the ground, and essayed to lead his Pegasus, but example proved as unavailing as precept. The more urgently Peter pulled, the more nearly came the ass to a sitting posture. After much toil and shameful defeat, the ass was led away in a different course, and then brought back to the charge, but along the edge of the road, and with his eyes protected from the sight of the devil incarnate. Nothing could surpass the cool composure and philosophical magnanimity with which our friend of the mud regarded all this agitation and

reverse of fortune. Peter too had his share of good temper, for he smiled with complacency on passing me, and alluded, without fury, to his own misadventures and my amusement. I thought the conduct of the jack-ass supremely pusillanimous and obstinate in itself, and excessively vexatious and injurious to all whom he served; but who can say that he did not congratulate himself on having saved the body politic of his master from the remorseless grasp of a swinish radical, by thus turning his significant nose towards heaven, and pressing his " fundamental feature" towards the ground? These, however, are speculations too profound for me, so I consign them to the consideration of your neighbouring Lakists.

The house which Cowper occupied in Olney for many years, and in which all his original poems were composed, is uninhabited. It is one

Y y

of the most respectable houses in the town, and looks into a large open space, in which the market is held, where two venerable trees toss their arms in unmolested dignity, and where the stocks stand in view, for the preservation of rustic morals. It is remarkable, that the same instrument of castigation is to be seen in front of the house which Cowper occupied in Weston. The house in Olney is rather inferior to a Scottish Manse. My feelings, however, were higher and dearer than poetry could inspire, while I traced every room and corner so exquisitely described by the poet of the heart.' Imprimis, as soon as you have entered the vestibule, if you cast a look on either side of you, you shall see on the right hand a box of my making. It is the box in which have been lodged all my hares, and in which lodges puss at present. But he, poor fellow, is worn out with age, and promises to die before you can see him. On the right hand also stands a cup-board, the work of the same author; it was once a dove-cage, but I transformed it. Opposite to you stands a table which I also made; but, a merciless servant having scrubbed it until it became paralytic, it serves no purpose now but of ornament; and all my clean shoes stand under it. On the left hand, at the farther end of this superb vestibule, you will find the door of the parlour, into which I will conduct you, and where I will introduce you to Mrs Unwin, unless we should meet her before, and where we will be as happy as the day is long. Order yourself, my cousin, to the Swan, at Newport, and there you shall find me ready to conduct you to Olney. My dear, I will not let you come till the end of May, or beginning of June, because, before that time, my green-house will not be ready to receive us, and it is the only pleasant scene belonging to us. When the plants go out, we go in. I line it with mats, and spread the floor with mats; and there you shall sit, with a bed of mignonette at your side, and a hedge of honeysuckles, roses, and jasmine; and I will make you a bouquet of myrtle every day. Our design was, that you should have slept in the room that serves me for a study, and its

**

having been occupied by you would have been an additional recommendation of it to me. ** The Vicarage is a smart stone building, well sashed, by much too good for the living, but just what I would wish for you. It has a garden, but rather calculated for use than ornament. Between your mansion and ours is interposed nothing but an orchard, into which a door, opening out of our garden, affords us the easiest communication imaginable, and will save the roundabout by the town, and make both houses one." They who duly appreciate Cowper will admit the propriety of mentioning, that the fronts of Cowper's mansion, and of the Vicarage, are reversed, and their backs directly opposite. The former fronts the rising sun-the latter is exposed to his evening rays. The affectionate poet proceeds in his correspondence with his cousin, Lady Hesketh:-"Your chamber windows look over the river, and over the meadows, to a village called Emberton, and command the whole length of a long bridge, described by a certain poet, together with a view of the road at a distance. Should you wish for books at Olney, you must bring them with you, or you will wish in vain, for I have none but the works of a certain poet, Cowper, of whom perhaps you have heard, and they are as yet but two volumes. ** I have at length, my cousin, found my way into my summer abode. I am writing in a bandbox, situated, at least in my account, delightfully, because it has a window on one side, that opens into that orchard, through which, as I am sitting here, I shall see you often pass, and which, therefore, I already prefer to all the orchards in the world. I long to shew you my workshop, and to see you sitting on the opposite side of my table. We shall be as close packed as two wax figures in an oldfashioned picture frame. I am writing in it now. It is the place in which I fabricate all my verse in summer time."

The summer-house is still entire. There I sat viewing the orchard, and conjuring up to my fancy the placid, sensitive, divine enthusiast, in the full exercise of his means of happi

ness.