The morning news., 1894-04-22
4 MANX PHYNNODDEREE.
TALES OF TEN Tlz-lvEl-ERS~s SERIES
Ry EDGAR L. WAKEMAN.
copyrsht lsa4 oy raea-I skeuaa Al rights reservedl


extirpate them.
The ancient Runic cross near Port e
I Nulln. Is an old woman returning to the
+ village with some balls OF wool in her
/ arms. who cursed the wind and was
. turned into stone The man of the hills,
/ whose voice is ever heard in the winds
souEbing through the glens and gorges,
J Is endless in his harm TO the shepherds
e and their rOckS; while the banshee, of
Ireland is here transformed into an intau-
rible army Of gnomes and sprites possess
lnE the power to reward the good ana
punish all evildoers.
There are. too, the -'taroo ushtey." the
7 wild water bull which destroys cattle,
. and the ''glashtin," the furious water
. horse which pursues and destroys the
Z tOcks. Besides these are the Moody
. DhOO.n or that rank spirit of fatalism
, crystali2ed as the black dog Of death;
. the ''OOoinney Oie,' or the niCht-man,
/ who cries ''howlaa, howlaa.' and fore
7 tells impending danger and approaching
. storm. that great hoard of "bugganes"
. who are responsible for all manner of i'll
. luck and, above all, that imp of inf
( mite drOllerY, the "phyDnOdderee,n - the
/ Puck of Mainland, ever present for in
/ citement to agreeable mischief, for actual
! pitying helpfulneSS to the weak and for
I remorseless punishment TO the sordid, the
/ cruel and the unjust.
This was the Manx imp most loved by
/ Harry Summerheld, and it was in his
mind when the astounding statement of
/ the pretended debt OF dead Galley Quill
/ lian' to his master fell from the latter's
! lips.
/ '"I should think you'd be afraid of the
/ phynnodderee, Master Cronk;" replied
| Harry quietly, as he fastened the muslin
! pillow of dried ferns in its place at the
! head of the box"
! You just remember what I've said,
| and be ready to make oath o. it, at aw
/ next Deemster's court" responded the
J cofin-maker savagely as he set a screw
iat9 eHe ef the e9s3H handles s--------------.-
! You don't mean that you want me to
make false oath2''
Il mean I'll have aw Quillian place
afore aw years done, an that's enough"
mo you won't, Master Cronkl I'll
| swear against you first. Galley Quillian
/ owed no man a penny. You'll not rob
| Granny and Densie of their home! -
! The old mans face was knotted and
! quivering from rage. He raised the tool
in his hand as if about to give his helper
a blow; but the young mans eyes looked
! quietly into his own
Dye know where ye staud2"
he fercely demanded. "D'ye know
its crime in Maughold to vote
| falsely. Dye know We voted
| falsely at aw last lection for parish clerk
> Law says none shall vote 'cept them as
| puts out smoke Your naught but a
criminal, MIR. BOokworm ~
Truly this is still the parish law at
| kirk Maughold. None may vote save
him whose domicile possesses a chimney
you're pauper; and this shops your
home Where is its chimbly} It's got
none. You voted for me for parish clerk
though Curphey Quayle bested me, an
! I'l even WI him, yet III put ye
in Ramsey jail, if ye don't do my bid
ding"
Harry Summertield's first impulse was
to strike the old wretch down. The next
| was to hasten TO the vicar and tell the
whole story, and the next to fly to Balla-
killey and warn the two helpless women
| of their impending danger. But in the
last five minutes of his life its entire out
look had been changed.
He reflected that Manx law was as
stern as Manx nature. Without friends
! or standing he could hope for no mercy.
He had truly done as the old wretch had
said, though through a kindly impulse
| toward his master, at his bidding, and
wholly without consciousness of wrong
doing, But he was helpless and penni-
less.
If he remained at Maughold village, he
must become party TO the robbery of
those he loved, or suffer the shame of
being known as criminal to all whom he
| loved and revered. While the great world
/ beyond was a vast wonderland to him.
/ somewhere in it there might be home and
kindred and friends, and, to him more
blessed possibility than all, means and
power to return and defeat his masters
! yillainous designs.
AS he again looked into his masters
! blazing eyes he felt there was bnt one re-
| course. That was in flight
"You'll forgive me, Master Cronkln he
at last asked with apparent humility.
M VraN u, >
Jail ye, if We mind not aw steps. Fetch
the cart an TAX aw box T. Ballakilley.
An mind, now, this: Tell Granny am
Densie I'm needin' what Galley Quillian
justly owed me. Bring me, just as they
speyk 'em, their answered words -
With this old Johnny Bill Cronk, who
was also sexton, or saxon - of St. Maug-
hold churchyard, with parting threat
ening glare at his helper, trundled away
to turn the sod" for Galley Quillian' S
grave.
The stiff -jointed old black pony was
hitched to the cart; the finished" box
carefully tied upon it, and after Harry
Summertield had donned his best attire,
secured few keepsakes in tiny bundle
and furtlvely written two brief notes
one TO the vicar thanking him for his
kindness, and one to Densie telling her
that he had quarreled with his master
and was going away, but would surely
IouuIu NIIulu luG year, curing Wulc1
time she must be brave and true and
hopeful whatever trouble came-he set
out at the pony's head and led the lugu-
brious animal, vehicle and its grewsome
freight to within sight of Ballak illey
farmhouse.
Here, for penny, an old fishwife took
charge of pony, cart, coffin, and the note
TO Densie to their destination, while
Harry SumMerfield, after shaking his
fist back in bitterness and despair toward
St. Maughold church and village, left the
old life behind and set out at rapid pace
upon the great Maux highway leading tc
Douglas and the, to him, dream-land
world beyond.
One wild April day, nearly year later
a storm was beating furiously upon the
island. 1t lashed and tossed the bast
branches of the huge sycamore trees sur
rounding Bishops Court, just above
kirkmichael, across the island from
Maughold Head, ratified the tiles of the
battlemented structure and beat WILDLY
at the shuddering panes of its great win
dows
TheHonorable, the RightReverendH Hora
ito Eowys, bishop of Sodor and Man, sal
at the table of his fine library. half dozius
, before a huge pile of manuscripts anC
books. The conflict and wailing of the
clements without intensified the comfort