CHAP. X.] ' THE WIDOW AND THE BABBITS.' 109 



teciors, of the Yalley of Misery." Two of the keepers ran down the road 

 to England, one of whom escaped across the sea in a trading vessel to 

 Holland, where he was heard of many years afterwards. Seven went to the 

 South, and were never heard of again ; but as they had to cross a river, it 

 was surmised they were all drowned, and that their bodies were carried out 

 to sea. Two quarrelled over a piece of cold venison ; and one had his leg 

 broken by a kick by his companion, and perished in the snow. His com- 

 panion was tried and executed at Edinburgh. One got into a deep snow- 

 drift directly he started, and perished; but the remaining nine were 

 sheltered by a compassionate old woman at the north of the village, and 

 returned after two weeks' time, and became good labourers, declaring they 

 never would be Babbit Protectors again. In this way the whole forty- 

 seven were exactly accounted for. With regard to those who crossed the 

 river, it is stated by the great historian Findout, that several bodies were 

 washed ashore one November, at the parish of Seaside, not seven miles 

 from the mouth of the river ; but Mr. Exact, in his popular account of the 

 district, points out that the year is not mentioned, or the number of 

 bodies stated, nor was the identity ever proved ; so whether they were the 

 bodies of the keepers, or of sailors from the wreck of some ship, can never 

 be discovered. 



Thursday came, and the cats, from exposure to the intense frost of the 

 preceding night, were very hungry, and were prowling about in all direc- 

 tions for food. It was particularly mentioned that, although the birds 

 flew over the valley that day, none settled when they saw the terrible army 

 of cats ready to devour them. 



In the evening the Laird was in a state of wild passion at not having 

 his grouse for dinner, and went to bed half stupefied, after having drunk a 

 bottle of brandy. The cats, in the desperation of famine, attacked the 

 house by myriads, and tried to get in ; but the windows and doors were 

 securely bolted. As the Laird heard the shrieks and cries of the cats, he 

 shivered with fright in his bed ; when of a sudden the Fairy appeared in 

 a sheet of fire, standing on a table before his bed. " Who are you, and 

 whence do you come ?" cried he ; " how did you enter when all the doors 

 were locked and the windows barred? Tell me quick." The Fairy, 

 unmoved by his violent gestures, sweetly replied, " I am the Fairy Dogood : 

 I am flesh and blood like you, but not so gross. I dwell where I like ; 

 where all is peace; but generally at the mountain top, to overlook the 

 valley. Sometimes I lie in the scarlet flower of a lichen; sometimes I 

 nestle amidst the pollen of Linneeus' flower : when I go abroad, I flit on the 

 wings of a blue butterfly to survey the flowers, or I soar in the air between 

 the wings of a gnat to enjoy the evening breeze. I practise gymnastics on 

 the delicate thread of a spider's web, and dance on the top of a thorn of 

 the gorse ; I feed upon the odour of the sweet gale ; I drink the invisible 

 water of the air, and eat the blue bloom which covers the fruit of the dew- 

 berry ; I bathe in the particles of the mist as it rises over the mountain 

 top, and I swim in the dewdrops which hang on the flowers ; I slide on 

 the snow-flakes as they drift in the air, and I skate on the hailstones as 

 they drop from the sky. When I suspect wrong, I leave the mountain top ; 

 and I have dwelt in the key-hole of your bedroom to see what you have 

 been about. When I see injustice, I ride upon the whirlwind and gallop 

 in the flames. I have come to visit you through a crack in a pane of glass 



