These stories, however, as I before observed, are fast fading away,
and in another generation or two will probably be completely
forgotten. There is something, however, about these rural
superstitions, that is extremely pleasing to the imagination;
particularly those which relate to the good-humoured race of household
demons, and indeed to the whole fairy mythology. The English have
given an inexplicable charm to these superstitions, by the manner in
which they have associated them with whatever is most homefelt and
delightful in nature. I do not know a more fascinating race of beings
than these little fabled people, that haunted the southern sides of
hills and mountains, lurked in flowers and about fountain-heads,
glided through key-holes into ancient halls, watched over farm-houses
and dairies, danced on the green by summer moonlight, and on the
kitchen-hearth in winter. They seem to accord with the nature of
English housekeeping and English scenery. I always have them in mind,
when I see a fine old English mansion, with its wide hall and spacious
kitchen; or a venerable farm-house, in which there is so much fireside
comfort and good housewifery. There was something of national
character in their love of order and cleanliness; in the vigilance
with which they watched over the economy of the kitchen, and the
functions of the servants; munificently rewarding, with silver
sixpence in shoe, the tidy housemaid, but venting their direful wrath,
in midnight bobs and pinches, upon the sluttish dairymaid.
Pages:
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436