II
Here is a true story that was told me by a man named James Moore when I was sitting with him by the fire one evening. He said:
‘I’m not much of a believer in most of the stories some ones is telling, but after all a body can’t help believing a thing they happen to see for themselves.
‘I remember one winter’s night—we were living in a house at the time that was pulled down for the building of the Big Wheel. It was a thatched house with two rooms, and a wall about six foot high dividing them, and from that it was open to the scrahs, or turfs, that were laid across the rafters. My Mother was sitting at the fire busy spinning, and my Father was sitting in the big chair at the end of the table taking a chapter for us out of the Manx Bible. My brother was busy winding a spool and I was working with a bunch of ling, trying to make two or three pegs.
‘“There’s a terrible glisther on to-night,” my Mother said, looking at the fire. “An’ the rain comin’ peltin’ down the chimley!”
‘“Yes,” said my Father, shutting the Bible; “an’ we better get to bed middlin’ soon and let the Lil’ Ones in to a bit of shelter.”
‘So we all got ready and went to bed.
‘Some time in the night my brother wakened me with a:
‘“Sh—ish! Listen boy, an’ look at the big light tha’s in the kitchen!” Then he rubbed his eyes a bit and whispered:
‘“What’s mother doin’ now at all?”
‘“Listen!” I said. “An’ you’ll hear mother in bed, it’s not her at all; it must be the Little Ones that’s agate of the wheel!”
‘And both of us got frightened, and down with our heads under the clothes and fell asleep. In the morning when we got up we told them what we had seen, first thing.
‘“Aw, like enough, like enough,” my Father said, looking at the wheel. “It seems your mother forgot to take the band off last night, a thing people should be careful about, for it’s givin’ Themselves power over the wheel, an’ though their meanin’s well enough, the spinnin’ they’re doin’ is nothin’ to brag about. The weaver is always shoutin’ about their work an’ the bad joinin’ they’re makin’ in the rolls.”
‘“I remember it as well as yesterday—the big light that was at them, and the whirring that was going on. And let anybody say what they like, that’s a thing I’ve seen and heard for myself.”’