grass till all should be gathered. And now, every night at the chilly hour
of midnight, the lady in a splendid coach with four skeleton horses, a
skeleton coachman, and skeleton footmen, is to be seen in the park obeying
the dictum of the Oakhampton worthies. This legend will be found, I am
told, in "Fitz, of Fitzford," by Mrs. Bray. I shall not comment on this, as
it evidently appears a wild legend, on which we can found nothing.

There is another tale which I shall recount here, since I can vouch for its
authenticity.

During the Irish Rebellion of 1798, a gentleman went to take possession of
a house in a lone district of Ireland. The house had been uninhabited for
some time, and was out of repair. Between nine and twelve at night, when
the gentleman had retired to rest, he was alarmed by hearing a noise; he
listened, the noise increased till the house rung with the repeated shocks;
he hastily sprung out of bed, and imagining it was the Rebels, he rushed
into the room where his servant slept; "Patrick, get up, the Rebels are
breaking in," said he, "Don't you hear the noise?" "Lord bless yer honor's
worship and glory, it's only the Daunder." "Daunder, sir, you rebel, the
Daunder, what do you mean?" The servant explained that the knocking was
regularly heard every night at the same time, and such was the case.
Various parts of the wall were pulled down, and the house almost rebuilt,
but to no purpose.

_Foley Place._
AN ANTIQUARY.

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