The Ingoldsby Legends; or, Mirth and MarvelsIngoldsby, Thomas
General
The Ingoldsby Legends; or, Mirth and Marvels
Ingoldsby, Thomas
English fiction -- 19th century; English poetry -- 19th century; English wit and humor; Humorous poetry, English
Yet such things have been: yea, we are assured, and that on no mean
authority, still are.
The World, according to the best geographers, is divided into Europe,
Asia, Africa, America, and Romney Marsh. In this last-named, and fifth,
quarter of the globe, a Witch may still be occasionally discovered in
favourable, _i.e._, stormy, seasons, weathering Dungeness Point in an
egg-shell, or careering on her broomstick over Dymchurch wall. A cow
may yet be sometimes seen galloping like mad, with tail erect, and an
old pair of breeches on her horns, an unerring guide to the door of
the crone whose magic arts have drained her udder.--I do not, however,
remember to have heard that any Conjuror has of late been detected in
the district.
Not many miles removed from the verge of this recondite region, stands
a collection of houses, which its maligners call a fishing-town, and
its well-wishers a Watering-place. A limb of one of the Cinque Ports,
it has (or lately had) a corporation of its own, and has been thought
considerable enough to give a second title to a noble family. Rome
stood on seven hills; Folkestone seems to have been built upon seventy.
Its streets, lanes, and alleys,--fanciful distinctions without much
real difference,--are agreeable enough to persons who do not mind
running up and down stairs; and the only inconvenience, at all felt by
such of its inhabitants as are not asthmatic, is when some heedless
urchin tumbles down a chimney, or an impertinent pedestrian peeps into
a garret window.
At the eastern extremity of the town, on the sea-beach, and scarcely
above high-water mark, stood, in the good old times, a row of houses
then denominated "Frog-hole." Modern refinement subsequently euphonized
the name into "East-street;" but "what's in a name?"--the encroachments
of Ocean have long since levelled all in one common ruin.
Here, in the early part of the seventeenth century, flourished in
somewhat doubtful reputation, but comparative opulence, a compounder of
medicines, one Master Erasmus Buckthorne; the effluvia of whose drugs
from within, mingling agreeably with the "ancient and fish-like smells"
from without, wafted a delicious perfume throughout the neighbourhood.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account