he
authorship--brother or sister's--which seems to me the more probable.
But I hope it will be understood that I do this at a venture, and,
except in a few cases, with no exact knowledge.

Page 404. _Envy_.

(?) Mary Lamb.

Page 404. _The Reaper's Child_.

(?) Mary Lamb.

Page 405. _The Ride_.

(?) Mary Lamb.

Page 406. _The Butterfly_.

(?) Mary Lamb. The poet referred to was William Roscoe, author of _The
Butterfly's Ball_, 1807.

Page 407. _The Peach_.

(?) Mary Lamb.

Page 408. _Chusing a Name_.

By Charles Lamb; as we know from a letter from Lamb to Robert Lloyd.

Page 408. _Crumbs to the Birds_.

(?) Mary Lamb.

Page 409. _The Rook and the Sparrows_.

(?) Mary Lamb.

Page 410. _Discontent and Quarrelling_.

(?) Mary Lamb.

Page 411. _Repentance and Reconciliation_.

(?) Mary Lamb.

Page 412. _Neatness in Apparel_.

(?) Charles Lamb.

Page 412. _The New-born Infant_.

(?) Mary Lamb.

Page 413. _Motes in the Sun-beams_.

(?) Mary Lamb.

Page 413. _The Boy and Snake_.

(?) Mary Lamb. This poem was the subject of the frontispiece to
Vol. I. of the original edition. According to a letter from Jean D.
Montgomery printed in _The County Gentleman_ in August, 1907, there is
extant in Kirkcudbrightshire a legend on which this poem is probably
based. She writes thus:--

"At the farm of Newlaw, in the parish of Rerrick, in
Kirkcudbrightshire, Scotland, some people named Crosbie lived
about the year 1782--at least, they had a son, Douglas, who was
born there in that year. When the child grew old enough to trot
about by himself his mother was in the habit of giving him his
plate of porridge and milk to take outside the farm and eat every
morning. He had probably done so for long enough, when one day,
his mother, happening to go out, saw him seated on the ground
eating his porridge in company with an adder, who, however,
instead of hurting the child, merely supped up the milk. When the
reptile edged a little nearer to the boy than was quite equal,
Douglas slapped the adder on his head with his horn spoon, saying,
"Keep yer ain side o' the plate, Grey Bairdie."

The mother was, of course, terrified, but waited until the boy had
finished his meal, when she called in the neighbours and killed the
adder.

Curiously enough a precisely similar story turned up in Hungary in
1907 and was telegraphed to the London press from Budapest.

P