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TALES OF MY LANDLORD.
CHAPTER III.
Brown dwarf, that o'er the moorland strays,
Thy name to Keeldar tell!
"The Brown Man of the moor, that stays
Beneath the heather-bell."
John Leyden.
The object which alarmed the young farmer in the middle of his valorous protestations, startled for a moment even his less-prejudiced companion. The moon, which had arisen during their conversation, was, in the phrase of that country, wading or struggling with clouds, and shed only a doubtful and occasional light. By one of her beams, which streamed upon the great granite column, to which they now approached, they discovered a form, apparently human, but of a size much less than ordinary, which moved slowly among
