A Warwickshire version, on the contrary, places the scene on our own "native leas:"
"There was a lady lived on lea, All alone, alone O, Down the greenwood side went she, Down the greenwood side, O.
"She set her foot all on a thorn[1], Down the greenwood side, O, There she had two babies born, All alone, alone O.
"O she had nothing to lap them in, All alone, alone O, But a white appurn and that was thin, Down the greenwood side, O," &c.
Here there are no less than four versions of the same ballad, each differing materially from the other, but all bearing unmistakeable marks of a common origin. It would be interesting to know the process by which this was managed.
[Footnote 1: In one of the Scottish ballads the same idea is more prettily expressed "leaned until a brier."]
From the 19th of August to the present time that brilliant comet, which was first seen by M. Klinkerfues, at Göttingen, on the 10th of June last, has been distinctly visible here, and among the ignorant classes its appearance has caused no little alarm. The reason of this we shall briefly explain.
During the past fifty-five years the Maltese have grievously suffered on three different occasions; firstly, by the revolution of 1798, which was followed by the plague in 1813; and lastly, by the cholera in 1837. In these visitations, all of which are in the recollection of the oldest inhabitants, thirty thousand persons are supposed to have perished.
Mindful as these aged people are of these sad bereavements, and declaring as they do that they were all preceded by some "curious signs" in the heavens which foretold their approach, men's minds have become excited, and, reason as one may, still the impression now existing that some fatal harm is shortly to follow will not be removed.
A few of the inhabitants, more terrified than their neighbours, have fancied the comet's tail to be a fiery sword, and therefore predict a general war in Europe, and consequent fall of the Ottoman Empire. But as this statement is evidently erroneous, we still live in great hopes, notwithstanding all previous predictions and "curious signs," that the comet will pass away without bringing in its train any grievous calamity.
By the following extracts, taken from some leading journals of the day, it will be seen that the Maltese are not alone in entertaining a superstitious dread of a comet's appearance. The Americans, Prussians, Spaniards, and Turks come in the same list, which perhaps may be increased by your correspondents: