An apology is perhaps needed for the neglect of contrast which isshown by presenting two consecutive stories of hangmen in such asmall collection as the following. But in the neighbourhood ofcounty-towns tales of executions used to form a large proportion ofthe local traditions; and though never personally acquainted withany chief operator at such scenes, the writer of these pages had asa boy the privilege of being on speaking terms with a man whoapplied for the office, and who sank into an incurable melancholybecause he failed to get it, some slight mitigation of his griefbeing to dwell upon striking episodes in the lives of those happierones who had held it with success and renown. His tale ofdisappointment used to cause some wonder why his ambition shouldhave taken such an unfortunate form, but its nobleness was neverquestioned. In those days, too, there was still living an old womanwho, for the cure of some eating disease, had been taken in heryouth to have her 'blood turned' by a convict's corpse, in themanner described in 'The Withered Arm.'

　　Since writing this story some years ago I have been reminded by anaged friend who knew 'Rhoda Brook' that, in relating her dream, myforgetfulness has weakened the facts our of which the tale grew. Inreality it was while lying down on a hot afternoon that the incubusoppressed her and she flung it off, with the results upon the bodyof the original as described. To my mind the occurrence of such avision in the daytime is more impressive than if it had happened ina midnight dream. Readers are therefore asked to correct themisrelation, which affords an instance of how our imperfect memoriesinsensibly formalize the fresh originality of living fact--fromwhose shape they slowly depart, as machine-made castings depart bydegrees from the sharp hand-work of the mould.

　　Among the many devices for concealing smuggled goods in caves andpits of the earth, that of planting an apple-tree in a tray or boxwhich was placed over the mouth of the pit is, I believe, unique,and it is detailed in one of the tales precisely as described by anold carrier of 'tubs'--a man who was afterwards in my father'semploy for over thirty years. I never gathered from hisreminiscences what means were adopted for lifting the tree, which,with its roots, earth, and receptacle, must have been ofconsiderable weight. There is no doubt, however, that the thing wasdone through many years. My informant often spoke, too, of thehorribly suffocating sensation produced by the pair of spirit-tubsslung upon the chest and back, after stumbling with the burden ofthem for several miles inland over a rough country and in darkness.

　　He said that though years of his youth and young manhood were spentin this irregular business, his profits from the same, taken alltogether, did not average the wages he might have earned in a steadyemployment, whilst the fatigues and risks were excessive.

　　I may add that the first story in the series turns upon a physicalpossibility that may attach to women of imaginative temperament, andthat is well supported by the experiences of medical men and otherobservers of such manifestations.

　　T. H.

　　April 1896.