author of the "First Book of Nonsense," I may relate an incident which
occurred to me four summers ago, the first that gave me any insight into
the origin of the rumor.

I was on my way from London to Guildford, in a railway carriage,
containing, besides myself, one passenger, an elderly gentleman: presently,
however, two ladies entered, accompanied by two little boys. These, who had
just had a copy of the "Book of Nonsense" given them, were loud in their
delight, and by degrees infected the whole party with their mirth.

"How grateful," said the old gentleman to the two ladies, "all children,
and parents too, ought to be to the statesman who has given his time to
composing that charming book!"

(The ladies looked puzzled, as indeed was I, the author.)

"Do you not know who is the writer of it?" asked the gentleman.

"The name is 'Edward Lear,'" said one of the ladies.

"Ah!" said the first speaker, "so it is printed; but that is only a whim of
the real author, the Earl of Derby. 'Edward' is his Christian name, and, as
you may see, LEAR is only EARL transposed."

"But," said the lady, doubtingly, "here is a dedication to the
great-grandchildren, grand-nephews, and grand-nieces of Edward, thirteenth
Earl of Derby, by the author, Edward Lear."

"That," replied the other, "is simply a piece of mystification; I am in a
position to know that the whole book was composed and illustrated by Lord