continued to trouble him, till "Parson Jago" was called in to use his skill, which was found effectual, in "laying" Tucker's spirit to rest. THE "HA-AF" A FACE. AMES BERRYMAN said, "Fa-ather took a house doun JAME to Lelant, whear we lived for a bra' bit. Very often after I ben in bed, our ould cat wud tear up, coover its ars like a ma-aged thing, jump uppon the bed, and dig her ould hed under the clothes, as if she wud git doun to bottom, and jest after, a man's face, with a light round un, wud cum in; 'twas ha-af a face like, and it wud stop at the bottom of the bed. I've sen it many times; and fa-ather, though he didn't say nothin', was glad enough to leave the place. I was tould that the house belonged to an ould man, and that two rich gentlemen, brothers, who lived close by, wanted the place, and put on law, and got the place from the poor ould man. When they war goin' to turn un out, the poor fellow stopped and looked round crying, and then fell down in a fit, was put to bed, and died in the house; and 'twas he, they said, that used to come back." THE THE WARNING. following instance is given me, as from the party to whom it happened, "a respectable person, of undoubted veracity." When a young man, fearing and caring for no one, I was in the habit of visiting Sancreed from Penzance, and of returning in the evening. One night I took up my hat to return, and went out at the door. It was a most beautiful night, when, without the most remote assignable reason, I was seized in a manner I never experienced either before or since. I was absolutely "terror-stricken," so that I was compelled to turn back to the house, a thing I had never done before, and say, "I must remain here for the night." I could never account for it; and without caring to be called superstitious, have regarded it as a special interposition of Providence. It was reported that shortly before a lad, who had driven home a farmer's daughter to her father's house in the neighbourhood, had suddenly been missed, and no clue to his whereabouts had ever been found. About four or six weeks after my adventure a gang of sheep-stealers, who had carried on their depradations for a long time previous, were discovered in the neighbourhood; their abode, indeed, adjoined the road from Sancreed to Penzance, and I cannot help believing it probable, that had I returned that night I should have encountered the gang, and perhaps lost my life. Years afterwards, one of the gang confessed that the boy had come suddenly upon them during one of their nefarious expeditions. He was seized, and injudiciously said, "Well, you may get off once or twice, but you 're sure to be hanged in the end." "Thee shan't help to do it," said one, and the poor boy was murdered, and his body thrown into a neighbouring shaft. LAYING A GHOST. 10 the ignorance of men in our age in this particular part of philosophy and namely, the communication between spirits and men,—not one scholar out of ten thousand, though otherwise of excellent learning, knows anything of it, or the way how to manage it. This ignorance breeds fear and abhorrence of that which otherwise might be of incomparable benefit to mankind." Such is the concluding paragraph of "An Account of an Apparition, attested by the Rev. Wm. Ruddell, Minister at Launceston, in Cornwall," 1665. A schoolboy was haunted by Dorothy Dingley, we know not why, but the boy pined. He was thought to be in love; but when, at the wishes of his friends, the parson questioned him, he told him of his ghostly visitor, and he took the parson to the field in which he was in the habit of meeting the apparition; and the reverend gentleman himself saw the spectral Dorothy, and afterwards he shewed her to the boy's father and mother. Then comes the story of the laying. "The next morning being Thursday, I went out very early by myself, and walked for about an hour's space in meditation and prayer in the field next adjoining to the Quartiles. Soon after five, I stepped over the stile into the disturbed field, and had not gone above thirty or forty paces before the ghost appeared at the further stile. I spoke to it with a loud voice, in some such sentences as the way of these dealings directed me; whereupon it approached, but slowly, and when I came near it it moved not. I spoke again, and it answered again in a voice which was neither very audible nor intelligible. I was not the least terrified, therefore I persisted until it spake again, and gave me satisfaction. But the work could not be finished at this time; wherefore the same evening, an hour after sunset, it met me again, near the same place, and after a few words on each side it quietly vanished, and neither doth appear since, nor ever will more, to any man's disturbance." * A A FLYING SPIRIT. BOUT the year 1761 a pinnacle was thrown down, by lightning, from the tower of the church at Ludgvan. The * "Historical Survey of Cornwall," C. S. Gilbert. effect was then universally imputed to the vengeance of a perturbed spirit, exorcised from Treassow, and passing eastward, towards the usual place of banishment THE RED SEA. The following story is given as a remarkable example of the manner in which very recent events become connected with exceedingly old superstitious ideas. The tales of Tregeagle have shewn us how the name of a man who lived about two centuries since is made to do duty as a demon belonging to the pagan times. In this story we have the name of a woman who lived about the commencement of the present century, associated with a legend belonging to the earliest ages. A THE EXECUTION AND WEDDING. WOMAN, who had lived in Ludgvan, was executed at but little doubt that she had been urged on to the diabolical deed by a horse-dealer, known as Yorkshire Jack, with whom, for a long period, she was generally supposed to have been criminally acquainted. Now, it will be remembered that this really happened within the present century. One morning, during my residence in Penzance, an old woman from Ludgvan called on me with some trifling message. While she was waiting for my answer, I made some ordinary remark about the weather. "It's all owing to Sarah Polgrain," said she. "Sarah Polgrain," said I; "and who is Sarah Polgrain?" Then the voluble old lady told me the whole story of the poisoning, with which we need not, at present, concern ourselves. By and by the tale grew especially interesting, and there I resume it. Sarah had begged that Yorkshire Jack might accompany her to the scaffold when she was led forth to execution. This was granted; and on the dreadful morning, there stood this unholy pair, the fatal beam on which the woman's body was in a few minutes to swing, before them. They kissed each other, and whispered words passed between them. The executioner intimated that the moment of execution had arrived, and that they must part. Sarah Polgrain, looking earnestly into the man's eyes, said, "You will?" Yorkshire Jack replied, "I will!" and they separated. The man retired amongst the crowd, the woman was soon a dead corpse, pendulating in the wind. Years passed on, Yorkshire Jack was never the same man as before, his whole bearing was altered. His bold, his dashing air deserted him. He walked, or rather wandered, slowly about the streets of the town, or the lanes of the country. He constantly moved his head from side to side, looking first over one, and then over the other, shoulder, as though dreading that some one was following him. The stout man became thin, his ruddy cheeks more pale, and his eyes sunken. At length he disappeared, and it was discovered-for Yorkshire Jack had made a confidant of some Ludgvan man-that he had pledged himself, "living or dead, to become the husband of Sarah Polgrain, after the lapse of years." To escape, if possible, from himself, Jack had gone to sea in the merchant service. |