The parson informed me that this was the ruin of an
ancient grange, and was supposed, by the country people, to be haunted
by a dobbie, a kind of rural sprite, something like Robin-good-fellow.
They often fancied the echo to be the voice of the dobbie answering
them, and were rather shy of disturbing it after dark. He added, that
the Squire was very careful of this ruin, on account of the
superstition connected with it. As I considered this local habitation
of an "airy nothing," I called to mind the fine description of an echo
in Webster's Duchess of Malfry:
--"Yond side o' th' river lies a wall,
Piece of a cloister, which, in my opinion,
Gives the best echo that you ever heard:
So plain in the distinction of our words,
That many have supposed it a spirit
That answers."
The parson went on to comment on a pleasing and fanciful appellation
which the Jews of old gave to the echo, which they called Bath-kool,
that is to say, "the daughter of the voice;" they considered it an
oracle, supplying in the second temple the want of the urim and
thummim, with which the first was honoured.[5] The little man was just
entering very largely and learnedly upon the subject, when we were
startled by a prodigious bawling, shouting, and yelping.
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