E. H. Knatchbull-Hugessen.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
| PAGE | |
| Zack Wins the Pig-Race (Zac's Bride) | [57] |
| Evelyn meets the Fairies (Evelyn with the Fairies) | [122] |
| The Cat's Last Music-Lesson (Cat and Dog) | [212] |
| End of Famcram (Ophelia) | [280] |
| Mary and Billy meet the Crones (The Crones of Mersham) | [305] |
| Simple Steenie and the Gray Man on the Stroll (The Crones of Mersham) | [344] |
PREFACE.
I had almost made up my mind to write no more Fairy Tales, to let sprites and elves alone for ever, and to refrain from any further research into the dark and mysterious doings of warlocks and witches in the olden time. But fate is stronger than the will of man, and I am powerless to resist the influences brought to induce—nay, to compel—me to alter my determination. It is not only that verbal and written requests have come to me from many quarters which it is difficult to resist; it is not only that I am tired of being asked when my new book is coming out, and of being generally disbelieved when I answer "never." There is a stronger influence still. Fairies and elves have an extraordinary power which they exercise over those who have once sought to pry into their mysteries. If once you have dealings with such creatures, you can rarely, if ever, leave them. There is a fatality which urges you on—an irresistible fascination in the subject which brings you back to it again and again, and obliges you to recur to it in spite of yourself. When I walk out in the woods, or ramble through the fields alone, the objects which appear ordinary and commonplace to people who have, unhappily for themselves, neglected to study Fairy Lore, bear to me quite a different appearance. I see traces of the little beings which are not visible to the careless, still less to the unbelieving eye. I hear voices which are inaudible to the ear of the incredulous; and even without this, Fancy—free, glorious Fancy—clothes the grass, the flowers, the bushes, the trees, with a beauty of her own, and peoples every fairy haunt with a spirit company. Is it only Fancy? Ah! that is just what nobody knows. Only how could I tell so many different stories if nobody told them to me first?
That is a question I should like people to put to themselves calmly and quietly, and if they think, after full consideration, that some person or persons must have told me these curious stories, I hope they will come to the conclusion that I am only doing what is right and fair in passing them on to other people, so that the world may know as much as I do about the strange and wonderful beings to whom these stories relate.
UNCLE JOE'S STORIES.
UNCLE JOE.
I do not think that I ever met so extraordinary a man as Uncle Joe in all my life. We children were all very fond of him, because he had an inexhaustible supply of stories, and those, too, of a kind which are especially popular with children. He had exciting stories of almost every sort: of thrilling adventures by land and sea, of captures by pirates, hair-breadth escapes from Red Indians; fearful conflicts with robbers; terrible struggles with wild animals; and strange encounters with sea-serpents or similarly wonderful creatures. Then he knew an immense deal about giants and dwarfs, witches and wizards, ogres and vampires, and he also possessed no little insight into all that concerned fairies and fairy-land. He could tell of the little sea fairy that rode on the crest of the wave, basking pleasantly when the sun shone down on a calm still ocean, and shrieking madly with frenzied delight when the winds lashed the waves into fury, and carried her forward on the great flakes of snow-like foam; of the fairy who looked after some particular house or family, and always appeared to warn them of danger just at the right moment, or to disclose a buried treasure, exactly in time to save them from ruin; and of the happy little woodland fairies, who are to be found in the deep glades and dark ravines of the wild forest, and about whom such innumerable legends have from time to time been written by some of those fortunate mortals who have visited and been aided by them in time of sickness or danger, and who have in gratitude chronicled their power.