Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1899-01-21
A CORNWALL LEGEND

"Conse" in local parlance.
But John partook unsparingly of the
flowing bowl, much to the discomfort of
his poor wife.
On the second Thursday before Christ
mas came Pierou's day, and, in accordance
with the common custom of the district,
the miners did not work, but celebrated
to the best of their ability.
Johnny Groat promised faithfully that
for once he would avoid the public house.
Betty, his wife, doubted, but said nothing.
In the morning the miner took the
''brats'" for a walk. In the afternoon he
smoked his pipe and whistled, but after
his humble supper was over Johnny could
stand it no longer.
"Hang it!' he said, "Pierou's day
comes but once a year. A mans churl
that canno' keep it. l have but a shilling
and so canno' get much fuddish." And
with the words he seized his hat and start
cd off, paying no heed to Betty's remon-
%strances.
The good wife stood at the door of the
cot and hurled a last angry word after the
obdurate John.
"May the Piskies take you, you drunk
Gil elf!'' she cried. John grinned, but re-
piled not. He merely hurried on, eager to
get out of earshot. Long experience had
taught him that he was no match for his
wife in scolding.
Now, in Cornwall to wish that the
Piskics might get any one was to wish
them about as much bad luck as possible.
The Piskies, or little people, We're a set
of mischievous sprites, supposed to inhabit
the waste places of the country, and who
were noted for playing tricks upon any
mortal unfortunate enough to fall into
their power after nightfall.
But little cared the stout hearted miner
for the Piskies. Many a night had he
pursued his devious way by Luxulyan
churchyard and over Tregarden down,
and neither the mischievous elf nor fright
full hobgobln had ever dared to trouble
him.
So John went sturdily IN to the Royal
Arms. AS he had anticipated. he found u
jolly company assembled there. That
John O. the Conse had but a single shil-
ling mattered but little. On Pierou's night
his comrades were only too glad to pay
the score, and So, when ~ O. the night
came, Johnny Groat left the public" we'll
filled with nut brown ale. He could walk,
but that was about all.
AS he bid the merry crew with whom
he had been carousing a last good night
some of them a little more thoughtful
than the rest babe him hurry home at the
top of his speed and warned him to be-
ware Of the little people.
Johnny nodded in reply, his tongue was
almost too thick for speech, and started
homeward.
The night was dark, the moon half hid
den at times under leaden clouds, and
John O. the Conse could. not help wishing
that the road was ended and that his own
door was in sight.
Past the churchyard he went, and Ire
garden down he entered upon. Then the
air seemed to grow murky, and strange,
shrill cries fell upon his ears. No coward
was Johnny Groat. At singlestick or
with his fist he feared not mortal man,
but as he hurried on he fully understood
that for once in his life he could say he
had heard the cries of the fairies playing
their wild pranks upon the moor. The
words of his wife came into his mind, and
he mentally resolved that If he got safe
home he would give her a sound drubbing
as a reward for wishing him such bad
luck. And then all Of a sudden he lost his
way, he, John O. the Conse, who had tray
eled over Tregasden down, man and boy,
for 40 years. Stumbling over the stones,
first to the right and then to the left,
Johnny Groat got sorely frightened. He
thought that he knew every foot of the
moor, yet the place he had got into seemed
utterly strange to him.
aThe devil must be in!" he muttered
as he tumbled full length over a bowlder.
Hardly had the words passed from his
lips when the moon shOne out, n he
found that he was surrounded by q multi
tude of little people.
With wild cries and derisive laughter,
the elves danced in q circle around the be-
wildered and now thoroughly frightened
miner, and every now and then some elf,
more malicious than hissfellows, admin
istered a sly pinch to Johns fat body.
A rude sort of song the elves sang as
they danced around the miner. John,
listening, caught the words:
''Ikle, pickle, seven times nine,
l and my red cap fine.
Ho, for France!"
The words rang so distinctly in his earl
that perforce he felt obliged to utter them.
"Ikle, pickle, seven imesn nine.
and my red cap fine,
Ho, for France!"
And with the words one of the Piskies
/ placed a little red cap upon Johns head,
and in a %twinkling he found himself flying
through the air.
Fast over England and over the channel
| the party flew like birds and finally land.
ed upon the sandy reaches Of the French
coast.
Then the elves sang again:
"Ikle, pickle, seven times nine,
| and my red cap fine.
Ho, for D'Aubing ~cellar!"
As before. Johnny Groat repeated the
words, and in O wink almost he found
/ himself in an ancient French cellar well
stocked with wine.
10 say that both the Piskies and John
O. the Conse did full justice to the wines
OF my Lord D'Aubing would be but to
tell the truth, and Johnny became SO fud'
died that when the butler disturbed the
carousers he was unable to- utter the magic
words and remained behind when his
comrades fed.
Caught thus in the act, scant trial they
gave the unfortunate Englishman, who
was unable to speak a word of French.
In the morning they built a scaffold,
and John o. the Conse stood beneath the
rope. Then a wee little pushed
her way through the crowd and sang d
short stave. Quick as a thought Johnny
caught the words and repeated them, plao'
ing the little red cap upon his head
''Ikle, pickle, seven times nine.
Iand my red cap fine.
Ho, for Cornwall!'
TIP into the air sailed Johnny, and he
alighted safe and sound not ten PAGES from
his own door. Never again did John O
the Conse touch strong drink except In
moderation. His night with the Piskiee
cured him. Exchange.