f his late mistress.
Horror seized him, his hair stood on end. Richmodis called him by his
name and begged him to open the door. At the sound of her voice the
old man started, ran upstairs, dashed into his master's room uttering
incoherent sounds, and stammering: "O Lord, the dead rise; outside
stands our good Mistress and demands entrance!" But the Magistrate
shook his head in deep grief: "Richmodis, my beloved wife is dead and
will never return, never, never," he repeated in unspeakable sorrow;
"I will rather believe that my two white horses will burst from their
halters in the stable and mount the stairs to the tower."

A terrible sound suddenly filled the quiet house, a noise like thunder
was heard, and Mengis of Aducht and his servant saw the two white
steeds tearing and tramping in haste upstairs.

A moment later two horses looked out of the tower windows into the
night, and shortly afterwards the Magistrate laughing and crying with
joy at the same time, held in his arms his wife who had returned from
the grave.

For many years Richmodis lived happily with her husband, surrounded by
several lovely children. Deep piety remained the motive power of
Richmodis' being, and nobody ever saw her smile again.

If you come to Cologne, reader, you will still see the old house of
the Aduchts at the New-market, with two white wooden horses' heads
looking out of the top window.

The Goblins

This story goes back to the "good old times" of which we modern people
always speak with a sigh of regret.

It was then when good-natured goblins appeared to mortal eyes, and
tried to render the life of the troubled human race a little more
cheerful. In groves and dens they had magnificent dwellings and
watched there over the enormous mineral treasures of the earth.

Often these beneficent elves were busy miners or sometimes clever
artisans. We all know that they manufactured the precious trinkets and
arms of the Nibelungen treasure.

Deep in the interior of the earth they lived happily together, ruled
over by a king. They could be called the harmless friends of darkness,
because they were not allowed to come into broad daylight. If they did
so, they were transformed into stones.

The goblins did not always remain underground. On the contrary they
often came to the earth's surface through certain holes, called
goblin-holes, but they always avoided meeting man.

Alas! the advance of civilisation has driven these friendl