And with that, poor Kate, not to be beaten by the Spriggans, tossed back her feet to kick the little fellows away, but they pulled off her shoes and tickled and prickled the soles of her feet until she fell a-laughing and a-crying by turns.
Kate was almost mad with their torment, when by good chance she remembered a charm that would drive away all mischievous spirits, on Hallowe’en. So she repeated it forwards and backwards, and in a twinkling all the little Spriggans fled screeching away, the Piskey galloping after them.
Then she got on her feet and looked around. She saw, by the starlight of a clear frosty morning, that the place to which she had been Piskey-led was a green spot near the Gump, where folks said the Spriggans held their nightly revels. And although the spot was very small, it had seemed to her like a ten-acre field because of enchantment.
And her hat, and her shoes, and her basket were gone; and poor Kate, barefooted and bareheaded, had to hobble home as best she could. And she reached Pendeen gate more dead than alive.
ONE-EYED PRYING JOAN’S TALE
From Cornwall
Sit down, Bobby, my boy. Eat some bread and cheese. Don’t be afraid to drink the cider. It’s all my own making. Sit down, and I’ll tell you how I lost the sight of my right eye.
The last Christmas Eve I went to Penzance to buy a pair of shoes for myself, and some thread and buttons, and things to mend Master’s clothes. I dearly like company, and as I started out I thought of old Betty down at the cove, she that they say is a Witch, you know.