Marget lous'd t' strings of her brat,
And trail'd it gerss and bushes through,
Till deg'd and damp and wet it gat;
Then suck'd it out for t' cooling dew.
Fra Weaver's Ayr they went up t' wood,
Now gaain' straight and then aslant,
They niver stopt, they niver stood,
But raac'd up t' brow saa rough and brant.
Marget could niver gradely say
Where nesht wi' t' ghoost shou went that neet;
On Windy Bank, when it was day,
They fun' her liggin, spent wi' freet.
Marget hed been stout and throddy,
But t' walk she tuk that summer neet,
Left lile fatness on her body;
At efter shou was thin and leet."
BOGGARTS IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.
Having fallen into conversation with a working man on our road to Holme Chapel, we asked him if people in those parts were now ever annoyed by beings of another world. Affecting the esprit fort, he boldly answered, "Noa! the country's too full o' folk;" while his whole manner, and especially his countenance, as plainly said "Yes!" A boy who stood near was more honest. "O, yes!" he exclaimed, turning pale; "the Boggart has driven William Clarke out of his house; he flitted last Friday." "Why," I asked; "what did the Boggart do?" "O, he wouldn't let 'em sleep; he stripp'd off the clothes." "Was that all?" "I canna' say," answered the lad, in a tone which showed he was afraid to repeat all he had heard; "but they're gone, and the house is empty. You can go and see for yoursel', if you loike. Will's a plasterer, and the house is in Burnley Wood, on Brown Hills."[48]
Edwin Waugh, in his story of "The Grave of Grislehurst Boggart,"[49] says, the most notable boggart of the hilly district towards Blackstone Edge, was the Clegg Ho' Boggart, still the theme of many a winter's tale among the people of the hills above Clegg Hall. The proverb, "Aw 'm heere agen, like Clegg Ho' Boggart," is common there, and in all the surrounding villages.... Boggarts appear, however, to have been more numerous than they are now upon the country side, when working people wove what was called "one lamb's wool" in a day; but when it came to pass that they had to weave "three lambs' wools" in a day, and the cotton trade arose, boggarts, and fairies, and feeorin' of all kinds, began to flee away from the clatter of shuttles. As to the Grislehurst Boggart, here is part of the story as told to Waugh, or by him:—"Whau it isn't aboon a fortnit sin' th' farmer's wife at the end theer yerd seed summat i' th' dyhed time o' th' neet; an' hoo war welly thrut eawt o' bed, too, besides—so then" ... "Th' pranks 'at it's played abeawt this plaze at time an' time, 'ud flay ony wick soul to yer tell on ... unyawkin' th' byes, an' turnin' carts an' things o'er i' th' deep neet time; an' shiftin' stuff up and deawn th' heawse when folk are i' bed; it's rayther flaysome yo may depend."
FOOTNOTES:
[1] See Thorpe's Northern Mythology, vol. i. pp. 118-231.
[2] See Mallet's Northern Antiquities, Keightley's Mythology of Greece and Rome, and Kelly's Indo-European Tradition and Folk-lore.