Having once, as a collector Of printed folk-lore, had the wide North Riding as my hunting-ground, I did, for a while, seem to lack elbow-room when I came to realize that I must confine my energies to the East. In a measure, I was able to understand the sensations Of somebody from beyond the Atlantic, who, when visiting our inconsiderable Isle, was fearful Of slipping over its edge. Stress Of limitation, however, soon ceased to trouble me rather was my mind occupied by the fact that though there were scores and scores Of places on my bit Of map, there was, Mr. Nicholson being taboo, very scant record of the popular fancies that found acceptance in them; and that, in spite Of the activity Of the press in Hull, which is, in some sort, the Leipzig Of the district. It required all the probity I could master to resist the temptation Of supplying demand by inventing time-honoured customs and traditions to enhance the interest Of my work: such a temptation, it seems to me, Richard Blackmore willingly embraced when he wrote his Mary Anerley. Twice have I gone through the three volumes Of a well-known compendium Of popular usages without finding any direct reference to the East Riding. I will not give the title Of the book, or some casual Opener Of its covers will soon tell me Of half a dozen.