I do not know that the next anecdote can strictly be called folk-lore, and I would not give it had not the last phrase already passed into a proverb in Penzance. When the Volunteer movement was first started, one of the Duke of Cornwall's First Volunteers (as the corps here is named),—I will call him Penkivell—was very enthusiastic, and diligently performed the drill-practise in a loft over his kitchen. One day he gave the word of command —"Private Penkivell, two steps, and fall back." He quite forgot that he was near a trap-door, and down he came through it, crashing the crockery that stood on his wife's "dresser" below. Alarmed at the noise, she ran to see what was the matter, and at the sight of her broken teacups, &c., began to scold. But he stopped her peremptorily, saying, "Woman, hold your tongue! What do you know about war!"
THE FORBIDDEN DOORS OF THE THOUSAND AND ONE NIGHTS.
By W. F. Kirby.
[Read at the Evening Meeting, 26th March, 1887.]
IT is interesting to reduce a popular story to its lowest terms, and to discover (as we often may without much difficulty) the very insignificant-looldng tap-root from which a most luxuriant growth has arisen. I remember once seeing the argument of "Paradise Lost" summed up as follows: "A man and woman find themselves in a garden; they are caught stealing the fruit, and are driven out."
I propose to call attention to five tales of The Thousand and One Nights, differing greatly from each other, and yet all based upon two fundamental ideas, and these very simple: (1) the existence of a door, which the hero is forbidden to open; and (2) his falling in love with a beautiful woman whom he sees from the house-top. As regards the latter incident (illustrated in the Old Testament
