To their destruction.
An’ aft your moss-traversin’ spunkies
Decoy the wight that late and drunk is:
The bleezin’, curst, mischievous monkeys
Delude his eyes.
Till in some miry slough he sunk is,
Ne’er mair to rise.”
The kelpy corresponded in attributes with the Icelandic Nikr; whence has come our term Old Nick, popularly applied to the devil. A well-known picture by Sir Noel Paton has familiarised the story of “Nickar, the soulless,” who is there represented as a creature with frog-like feet, but with a certain human look about him, crouching among sedge by the side of water, and playing his ghittern—an instrument resembling a guitar. He appears, however, more melancholy and less mischievous than the other members of his fraternity. A kelpy that idled away his time with music and made no attempt to drown anybody, was quite an exceptional being. In Sweden, where Nikr was regarded with awe, ferry-men at specially dangerous parts of rivers warned those who were crossing in their boat not even to mention his name, lest some mishap should follow. In his “Saxons in England,” Mr. J. M. Kemble thus refers to other manifestations of the same creature:—“The beautiful Nix or Nixie who allures the young fisher or hunter to seek her embraces in the wave which brings his death; the Neck who seizes upon and drowns the maidens who sport upon his banks; the river-spirit who still yearly, in some parts of Germany, demands tribute of human life, are all forms of the ancient Nicor.” The same writer continues:—“More pleasing is the Swedish Stromkarl, who, from the jewelled bed of his river, watches with delight the children gambol in the adjoining meadows, and singing sweetly to them in the evening, detaches from his hoary hair the sweet blossoms of the water-lily, which he wafts over the surface to their hands.” In his “Folklore of East Yorkshire,” Mr. J. B. Nicholson alludes to a haunted pool between Bewholme and Atwick, at the foot of the hill on which Atwick Church stands. This pool is shaded by willows, and is believed to be haunted by a spirit known in the district as the Halliwell Boggle. In connection with Robin Round Cap Well, in the same district, Mr. Nicholson tells a story—found also in the south of Scotland—of a certain house-spirit or brownie, who proved so troublesome to the farmer whom he served that his master resolved to remove to other quarters. The furniture was accordingly put in carts and a start was made for the new home. On the way, a friend accosted the farmer and asked if he was flitting. Before he could reply, a voice came from the churn—“Ay, we’re flitting!” and, behold, there sat Robin Round Cap. The farmer, seeing that he could not thus rid himself of the spirit, returned to his old home; but, afterwards, he succeeded in charming the brownie into a well, where he still remains. The same writer relates a superstition about a certain round hole near Flamborough where a girl once committed suicide. “It is believed,” he says, “that anyone bold enough to run nine times round this place will see Jenny’s spirit come out, dressed in white; but no one has yet been bold enough to venture more than eight times, for then Jenny’s spirit called out:—
‘Ah’ll tee on my bonnet
An’ put on me shoe,