they kept him, dancing away, night and day, without intermission.  His relatives at home were at a loss to know what had become of him, and immediately concluded that he had terminated his existence, or had gone on a journey; but days, weeks, and months rolled on, and no farmer appeared, nor were any tidings heard respecting him, until it chanced one day that a man passing by the lonely spot, saw him knocking his legs about as if he was bereft of his reason; and going up to him, inquired what caused him to be so merry, which broke the spell; and the farmer, as if waking out of a dream, exclaimed, “O dear! where are my horses?” and stepping out of the magical circle, fell down, and mingled his dust with the earth:  no wonder, for he had been dancing without nourishment or food for more than a twelvemonth.  If every fair dancer joined the Tylwyth teg’s dance, how many beings would be danced out of the world?

This is credited, he informs me, in some parts of North Wales, at the present day.  Two men travelling together, happened to be benighted soon after entering a wood, and one of them being fatigued, sat down and slept, but when he awoke could no where discover his companion; thinking he had travelled on, he proceeded, but when he arrived at home, was astonished at the inquiries respecting his fellow, and related that he had lost him while he slept.  As there seemed to be a mystery in the case, the relatives of the absent individual went to the village wizard, who informed them that he was in the power and hands of the fairies, but if they would go to the place where he was missed by his companion, just a year after that time, they would see him dancing with them, when they were to rescue him.  After the year had elapsed, they went and found it as the conjuror had said;—­whereupon one of them dragged the man out of the ring, who immediately asked if it was not better to proceed home, imagining it was the same night, and that he was with his companion.  One of the people presented him with some victuals, which he began to eat, but had no sooner done so, than he mouldered away.

Wishing the juvenile author all success in his future essays, we commend his present work to the lovers of superstitious lore, and to the substantial notice of the very reverend personage already alluded to.

* * * * *

THE GATHERER.

  A snapper up of unconsidered trifles. 
  SHAKSPEARE.

* * * * *

THE REFORM BILL.

(For the Mirror.)