LXXXIII.—THE FAIRIES OF CALDON-LOW.

A MIDSUMMER LEGEND.

I.

"AND where have you been, my Mary, And where have you been from me?" "I've been to the top of the Caldon-Low, The midsummer night to see."

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VI.

"And the harp-strings rang right merrily

To their dancing feet so small;

But oh, the sound of their talking

Was merrier far than all."

VII.

"And what were the words, my Mary, That you heard the fairies say?"

"I'll tell you all, my mother,

But let me have my way.

VIII.

"And some, they played with the water, And rolled it down the hill: 'And this,' they said, 'shall speedily turn The poor old miller's mill;

"And there,' they said, 'the merry winds

Away from every horn,

And they shall clear the mildew dank
From the blind old widow's corn.

XIII.

"Oh the poor blind old widow!

Though she has been poor so long,

She'll be blithe enough when the mildew's gone, And the corn stands tall and strong!'

XIV.

"And some, they brought the brown lint-seed, And flung it down from the Low:

'And this,' said they, 'by the sunrise,

In the weaver's croft shall

grow.

"And with that I could not help but laugh, And I laughed out loud and free;

And then on the top of the Caldon-Low
There was no one left but me.

And nothing I saw but the mossy stones
That round about me lay.

XX.

"But coming down from the hill-top,

I heard afar below

How busy the jolly miller was,
And how the wheel did go.

XXI.

"And I peeped into the widow's field,
And sure enough were seen
The yellow ears of the mildewed corn
All standing stout and green.

XXII.

"And down by the weaver's croft I stole
To see if the flax were sprung;

And I met the weaver at his gate
With the good news on his tongue.

XXIII.

"Now, this is all I heard, mother,
And all that I did see;

So, prithee, make my bed, mother,
For I'm tired as I can be!"

MARY HOWITT.

LXXXIV. A JOURNEY TO PALMYRA.

1. My journey to Palmyra, otherwise "Tadmor in the Desert," was somewhat adventurous. My whole party consisted of an English friend, an Arab sheik and a camel driver-four men in all-mounted on three dromedaries. To attempt to go from Damascus to Tadmor, through a hundred miles of desert infested by prowling bandits and overrun by hostile Bedouins, with such an escort, may appear a little rash, and ́ looking back upon it now from the calm seclusion of my library, I think it was rash. It had these good effects, however it led me away from the ordinary and direct route; it brought me into contact with a number of friendly tribes ; it gave me large experience of genuine Arab hospitality; and it afforded me some very palpable, if not very pleasant, illustrations of the truth of the prophecy pronounced of old on Ishmael and his posterity: "He will be a wild man; his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him."

2. It was the fifth morning of our journey, and the sheik told us that by noon we should see the ruins of Tadmor. For three whole days we had already marched through the desert— not, however, the desert of boyhood's fancy, a plain of drifting sand, blazing in the fierce sunbeams and bounded by the circle of the horizon. This desert had more pleasing features. There were long ranges and clustering groups of mountains, presenting an agreeable variety of form and outline, and occasionally also of color, though the general hue was that light gray or yellowish white so characteristic of the limestone strata of Syria.

3. Many strange and interesting traits of Arab life and law came under our notice. Whenever our path led us near an encampment we always found some active sheik or venerable patriarch sitting "in his tent door," and as soon as we were within hail we heard the earnest words of welcome and invitation which the Old Testament Scriptures had rendered long ago familiar to us: "Stay, my lord, stay. Pass not on till