There was no reason given by the narrator why the b "spirited away" in the first instance, or why he was re Her impression was, that some sprites, pleased with the innocence and beauty, had entranced him. That asleep he had been carried through the waters to th abodes beneath them; and she felt assured that a cl treated would be kept under the especial guardianship sprites for ever afterwards. Of this, however, tr leaves us in ignorance.

"D'%

A NATIVE PIGSEY STORY.

'YE see that 'ere hoss there?" said a Liskeard to a West-Country miner.

"What ov it?" asked the miner.

'Well, that 'ere hoss he 'n been ridden to death a'm the pigsies again.”

"Pigsies!" said the miner; "thee don't b'leve in do 'ee?"

"Ees I do; but I specks you're a West Country ain't ee? If you 'd a had yourn hosses wrode to death nite, you'd tell another tayl, I reckon. But as sure a living, the pigsies do ride on 'em whenever they mind to."

THE NIGHT-RIDERS.

I

WAS on a visit when a boy at a farm-house sit

near Fowey river. Well do I remember the fa with much sorrow telling us one morning at breakfast "the piskie people had been riding Tom again;" and he regarded as certainly leading to the destruction fine young horse. I was taken to the stable to se horse. There could be no doubt that the animal was distressed, and refused to eat his food. The mane was

to be knotted into fairy stirrups; and Mr―― told me that he had no doubt at least twenty small people had sat upon the horse's neck. He even assured me that one of his men had seen them urging the horse to his utmost speed round and round one of his fields.

THE

THE FAIRY TOOLS; OR, BARKER'S KNEE.

HE buccas or knockers are believed to inhabit the rocks, caves, adits, and wells of Cornwall. In the parish of Towednack there was a well where those industrious small people might every day be heard busy at their labours-digging with pickaxe and shovel. I said, every day. No; on Christmas-day-on the Jews' Sabbath-on Easter-day-and on All-Saints' day-no work was done. Why our little friends held those days in reverence has never been told me. Any one, by placing his ear on the ground at the mouth of this well, could distinctly hear the little people at work.

There lived in the neighbourhood a great hulking fellow, who would rather do anything than work, and who refused to believe anything he heard. He had been told of the Fairy Well-he said it was "all a dream." But since the good people around him reiterated their belief in the fairies of the well, he said he'd find it all out. So day after day, Barker -that was this hulk's name-would lie down amidst the ferns growing around the mouth of the well, and, basking in the sunshine, listen and watch. He soon heard pick and shovel, and chit-chat, and merry laughter. Well, "he'd see the out of all this," he told his neighbours. Day after day, and week after week, this fellow was at his post. Nothing resulted from his watching. At last he learned to distinguish the words used by the busy workers. He discovered that each set of labourers worked eight hours, and that, on leaving,

they hid their tools. They made no secret of this; and one evening he heard one say, he should place his tools in a cleft in the rock; another, that he should put his under the ferns; and another said, he should leave his tools on Barker's knee. He started on hearing his own name. At that moment a heavy weight fell on the man's knee; he felt excessive pain, and roared to have the cursed things taken away. His cries were answered by laughter. To the day of his death Barker had a stiff knee; he was laughed at by all the parish; and "Barker's knee" became a proverb.

THE

THE PISKIES IN THE CELLAR.

HE following story, for which I am indebted to Mr T. Q. Couch, will remind the reader of "The Cluricaun" and "The Haunted Cellar," in "Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland." By T. Crofton Croker, Esq.

On the Thursday immediately preceding Christmas-tide, (year not recorded,) were assembled at "The Rising Sun," the captain and men of a Stream Work* in the Couse below. This Couse was a flat alluvial moor, broken by gigantic molehills, the work of many a generation of tinners. One was half inclined, on looking at the turmoiled ground, to believe with them that the tin grew in successive crops, for, after years of turning and searching, there was still enough left to give the landlord his dole, and to furnish wages to some dozen Streamers. This night was a festival observed in honour of one Picrous,† and intended to celebrate the discovery of tin on this day by a man of that name. The feast is still kept, though the observance has dwindled to a supper and its attendant merry-making.

* A "Stream Work" is a place where tin is obtained from the drift deposits. "Streamers" are the tinners who wash out the tin.

+ Picrous day is still kept up in Luxulyan. See Appendix (F.)

Our story has especially to do with the adventures of one of the party, John Sturtridge, who, well-primed with ale, started on his homeward way for Luxulyan Church-town. John had got as far as Tregarden Down without any mishap worth recording, when, alas! he happed upon a party of the little people, who were at their sports in the shelter of a huge granite boulder. Assailed by shouts of derisive laughter, he hastened on frightened and bewildered, but the Down, wellknown from early experience, became like ground untrodden, and after long trial no gate or stile was to be found. He was getting vexed, as well as puzzled, when a chorus of tiny voices shouted, "Ho! and away for Par Beach!" John repeated the shout, and was in an instant caught up, and in a twinkling found himself on the sands of Par. A brief dance, and the cry was given, "Ho! and away for Squire Tremain's cellar!" A repetition of the Piskie cry found John with his elfish companions in the cellars at Heligan, where was beer and wine galore. It need not be said that he availed himself of his opportunities. The mixture of all the good liquors so affected him that, alas! he forgot in time to catch up the next cry of "Ho! and away for Par Beach!" In the morning John was found by the butler, groping and tumbling among butts and barrels, very much muddled with the squire's good drink. His strange story, very incoherently told, was not credited by the squire, who committed him to jail for the burglary, and in due time he was convicted and sentenced to death:

The morning of his execution arrived; a large crowd had assembled, and John was standing under the gallows tree, when a commotion was observed in the crowd, and a little lady of commanding mien made her way through the opening throng to the scaffold. In a shrill, sweet voice, which John recognised, she cried, "Ho! and away for France!"

Which being replied to, he was rapt from the officers of justice, leaving them and the multitude mute with wonder and disappointment.

THE SPRIGGANS OF TRENCROM HILL.

T is not many years since a man, who thought he was fully informed as to the spot in which a crock of the giant's gold was buried, proceeded on one fine moonlight night to this enchanted hill, and with spade and pick commenced his search. He proceeded for some time without interruption, and it became evident to him that the treasure was not far off. The sky was rapidly covered with the darkest clouds, shutting out the brilliant light of the moon,—which had previously gemmed each cairn,—and leaving the goldseeker in total and unearthly darkness. The wind rose, and roared terrifically amidst the rocks; but this was soon drowned amidst the fearful crashes of thunder, which followed in quick succession, the flashes of lightning. By its light the man perceived that the spriggans were coming out in swarms from all the rocks. They were in countless numbers; and although they were small at first, they rapidly increased in size, until eventually they assumed an almost giant form, looking all the while, as he afterwards said, "as ugly as if they would eat him." How this poor man escaped is unknown, but he is said to have been so frightened that he took to his bed, and was not able to work for a long time.

AT

THE FAIRY MINERS-THE KNOCKERS.

T Ransom Mine the "Knockers" were always very active in their subterranean operations. In every part of the mine their "knockings" were heard, but most espe