I learn that Mr Fortescue Hitchins, some fifty or sixty years since, wrote a “copy of verses” on this tradition, but I have never seen this production.
THE FLOATING GRINDSTONE.
I have already told of St Piran and his grindstone. I have, however, another and a more modern story, which is told with great glee at some of the social meetings of the fishermen. This is given merely to indicate the simplicity of this honest race.
A party was got together on a promontory at the extremity of the bay which enclosed a fishing-town. They were gathered to see a wonder, a floating grindstone. Seeing that grindstones were grindstones in those days, and worth many pounds sterling, a boat was manned, and away they went, the mover of the expedition being in the bow of the boat.
As they approached the grindstone, this man planted his foot on the gunwale, ready for a spring. They were close aboard the circular mass,—“All my own, and none for nobody,” he cries, and sprang off, as he fancied, on to the grindstone. Lo! to his great surprise, he sank under water, presently popping up again within his charmed circle, to be greeted with roars of laughter. He had leaped into a sheet of “salt sea foam” which had gathered, and was confined within a large hoop.
CELTS—FLINT ARROW-HEADS, ETC.
The common people believe these to be produced by thunder, and thrown down from the clouds, and that they shew what weather will ensue by changing their colour.
I have also found a belief prevailing in many districts, that Celts impart a virtue to water in which they have been soaked, and that diseases have been cured by drinking it.
HORNS ON THE CHURCH TOWER.
When the masons were building the tower of Towednack Church, the devil came every night and carried off the pinnacles and battlements. Again and again this work was renewed during the day, and as often was it removed during the night, until at length the builders gave up the work in despair, feeling that it was of no use to contend with the evil one.