to burst.  The inhabitants, on learning the joyful news, carried the knight and the Lindwurm in triumph into the city of Bruenn, where they have ever since treasured up the memento of their former tyrant.  The animal, or reptile, thus preserved, is undoubtedly of the crocodile or alligator species, although I regret it was not in my power to examine it more particularly, evening having set in when I saw it in the arched passage leading to the town-hall of the city where it has been suspended.  I fear also that any attempt to count the distinguishing bones would be fruitless, the scaly back having been covered with a too liberal supply of pitch, with the view to protection from the weather.

Have any of your readers seen this Lindwurm under more favourable circumstances than myself, and can they throw any light on the genus to which it belongs?

May not the various legends respecting dragons, &c., have their origin from similar circumstances to those of this Bruenn Lindwurm, which I take to leave strong proof of fact, the body being there?  Perhaps some of our correspondents may have it in their power to give further corroborative evidence of the former existence of dragons under the shape of crocodiles.  The description of the Wantley dragon tallies with that of the crocodile very nearly.

R.S., Jun.

* * * * *

JOAN SANDERSON, OR THE CUSHION DANCE; AND BAB AT THE BOWSTER.

Can any of your numerous valuable correspondents give me the correct date, or any clue to it, of the above dance.  There is little doubt of its great antiquity.  The dance is begun by a single person (either a woman or man), who {518} dances about the room with a cushion in his hand, and at the end of the tune stops and sings: 

“This dance it will no further go!”

[The Musician answers.]

“I pray you, good sir, why say you so?”

[Man.]

“Because Joan Sanderson will not come to!”

[Music.]

“She must come to, and she shall come to,
And she must come whither she will or no.”

He now lays down the cushion before a woman, on which she kneels, and he kisses her, singing: 

“Welcome, Joan Sanderson, welcome, welcome.”

She rises with the cushion, and both dance about, singing: 

“Prinkum-prankum is a fine dance,
And shall we go dance it once again,
And once again,
And shall we go dance it once again?”

Then making a stop, the woman sings, as before: 

“This dance it will no further go!”

[Music.]

“I pray you, madam, why say you so?”

[Woman.]

“Because John Sanderson will not come to.”

[Music.]

“He must come to,” &c.

And so she lays down the cushion before a man, who, kneeling, upon it, salutes her, she singing: