have been blended into one forming the present Westmorland dialect; and so, as civilization advanced, and names were required, they have been bestowed by each different race and retained to the present day; and, what is a remarkable proof of the addition of names by different races, we often find two or three syllables in one name, each given by a different people, and yet each and all having the same meaning. The names now borne by fields have generally been applied to the same land for ages previous to its enclosure; and are consequently indicative of the existence of some particular race of people; or it may be some event. Others again bear peculiar names which they derive from some remains, even though these have been removed. These are often from mounds, as Affleber, a corruption from Anglebarrow; from earthworks, as Borwans, or from stone circles, as Stannerstones. Another curious fact is that many of these places where earthworks or mounds are or have been are said to be haunted. Such is the case near Reagill Grange, where a gate noiselessly is opened for the midnight passenger, and again as noiselessly closed. At other places a figure suddenly appears, passes by, and vanishes; sometimes a dog, swelling into an enormous size; again a calf or black swine, and not unfrequently a lady in white, whose antics are as various as her observers. This myth of the midnight air has often appeared to belated travellers, who, on daring her, have fallen victims to her fury. Major White of Reagill, one night coming through Blinbeck on horseback, saw something white in a tree, which he supposed to be a howlet. Having a gun with him, he fired at it. With this salute it began to swell and grew bigger till it took the form of a lady in white. She jumped on to the horse behind him, and galloped him through hedge, ditch and brake at a terrible speed. At last he landed home, his clothes torn to shreds, and his horse panting and white with foam. Another boggle haunts Langland's Geayte. This is supposed to be a Barghast from its peculiar _wawl_ or _beal_. One old man tells the story that he was coming along on horseback with some sacks under him. On hearing the wawl he jumped off, and pulled off his sacks, thinking some one had put a cat in; he found none, but presently cats began to wawl on all sides of him. He then knew it was the Barghast, so mounting his horse he made all speed along the haunted lane. Another man walking in the same lane saw something black in the middle of the road; he, foolhardy, punched at it "an' wi' that it gev the awfullest beal. I tewk to my heels than, for I knew 'twas a Barghast." He told his tale to an old neighbour next morning, who replied "La, man' it'll be our cuddy, it niver come heayme yesterday neet," so off they went to see; and the cuddy it certainly had been. These appearances are often in the most lonely places, and in many instances the memory of some deed has in the ghost survived all remembrance of the action.