(3.) To Robin Hood, again, we doubtless owe the familiarity of several names applied to the _spirit world_. Our forefathers were very superstitious, especially the country peasantry. A belief in “brownies,” “dobbies,” “pixies,” and elves kindly or mischievous, still largely prevails in places removed from the busy towns. Superstitions of this kind die where men are herded together. It is only in dusky woodlands ghostly sights appear, or in the silences of the rural churchyard or forest avenue that voices are heard whose utterance is not from human throat! Certainly Robin Hood must stand sponsor for much of the dread that nurses infused into naughty children’s breasts. The pet names or nurses’ names of Robert were “Robin,” “Hob,” and “Dob.” The _ignis fatuus_, to this day an object of apprehension, was associated early with the bold freebooter:— “Some call him _Robin Goodfellow_, _Hob-goblin_, or mad Crisp. And some againe doe terme him oft, By name of Will the Wispe.” So says an old ballad. _Robin_ Goodfellow and _Hob_-goblin, it will be seen, represent the same name. Another title for the same was “Hob-lanthorn” (_i.e._ Robin’s lanthorn). Dr. Halliwell gives the term “Hob-thrush,” adding that it is always used in association with Robin Goodfellow. In the “Two Lancashire Lovers” (1640) it is said, “If he be no hob-thrush, nor no Robin Goodfellow, I could finde with all my heart to sip up a sillybub with him.” Here, then, are four names, “Robin Goodfellow,” “Hob-goblin,” “Hob-lanthorn,” “Hob-thrush;” all used to give personation to that curious light which occasionally may be seen in marshy and woody districts. How natural that these should be associated with that mysterious denizen of the forest, whose name was in everybody’s mouth, and who came and went, who showed himself here, there, and everywhere, and yet could never be caught! “From elves, _hobs_, and fairies, Defend us, good Heaven,” say Beaumont and Fletcher in one of their plays. And every reader of Shakespear will remember how in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” the Fairy addresses Puck as— “That shrewd and knavish sprite Called Robin Goodfellow:” while by-and-by she adds:— “Those that Hob-goblin call you, and sweet Puck, You do their worst, and they shall have good luck.” In the extreme north of England the pet name for Robert was Dob, or “Dobbin.” Curiously enough, to this day the term for Hob-goblin is there “Dobby.” {63} I ask the reader, if this can be an accident? Could it have been possible that five distinct names should be given to the _ignis fatuus_, or to such woodland elves as were supposed to reveal themselves under his frolicsome light, all having Robert as their chief component, had not the thousand and one stories about Robin Hood and his merry men and their nightly escapades been spread over the land by the ballad-mongers of the time that immediately followed his death?