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303
The Book of Dreams and Ghosts
·
Andrew Lang
281
"As
I
was
speaking
to
those
who
stood
about
his
bed,
we
heard
a
noise
as
if
the
house
was
falling.
In
rushed
my
bedfellow,
the
brother
of
the
sick
lad,
half
dead
with
terror.
"'When
you
got
up,'
he
said,
'I
felt
a
cold
hand
on
my
back.
I
thought
it
was
you
who
wanted
to
waken
me
and
take
me
to
see
my
brother,
so
I
pretended
to
be
asleep
and
lay
quiet,
supposing
that
you
would
go
alone
when
you
found
me
so
sound
asleep.
But
when
I
did
not
feel
you
get
up,
and
the
cold
hand
grew
to
be
more
than
I
could
bear,
I
hit
out
to
push
your
hand
away,
and
felt
your
place
empty--but
warm.
Then
I
remembered
the
follet,
and
ran
upstairs
as
hard
as
I
could
put
my
feet
to
the
ground:
never
was
I
in
such
a
fright!'
"The
sick
lad
died
on
the
following
night."
Here
Carden
the
elder
stopped,
and
Jerome,
his
son,
philosophised
on
the
subject.
Miss
Dendy,
on
the
authority
of
Mr.
Elijah
Cope,
an
itinerant
preacher,
gives
this
anecdote
of
similar
familiarity
with
a
follet
in
Staffordshire.
"Fairies!
I
went
into
a
farmhouse
to
stay
a
night,
and
in
the
evening
there
came
a
knocking
in
the
room
as
if
some
one
had
struck
the
table.
I
jumped
up.
My
hostess
got
up
and
'Good-night,'
says
she,
'I'm
off'.
'But
what
was
it?'
says
I.
'Just
a
poor
old
fairy,'
says
she;
'Old
Nancy.
She's
a
poor
old
thing;
been
here
ever
so
long;
lost
her
husband
and
her
children;
it's
bad
to
be
left
like
that,
all
alone.
I
leave
a
bit
o'
cake
on
the
table
for
her,
and
sometimes
she
fetches
it,
and
sometimes
she
don't."
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