Page:History of the Fylde of Lancashire (IA historyoffyldeof00portiala).pdf/122

 The fairies of the Fylde were supposed, like those of other localities, to reside in the earth; the vicinity of a cold spring, situated between Hardhorn and Newton, was one of their legendary resorts, and from such reputation acquired the name of "Fairies' well." Many stories are told of the mischievous, or good-natured doings of these imaginary beings; one or two of which we will here narrate:—A poor woman when filling her pitcher at the above well, in order to bathe the weak eyes of her infant, was gently addressed by a handsome man, who gave her a small box of ointment, and told her at the same time that it would prove an infallible remedy for the ailment of her child. The woman, although grateful for the present, either overcome by that irresistible curiosity which is commonly, but perhaps erroneously, supposed to attach itself to her sex, or doubtful of the efficacy which the stranger had assigned to the drug, applied it to one of her own eyes. A few days afterwards she had occasion to go to Preston, and whilst there detected her benefactor in the act of stealing corn from the open mouths of some sacks exposed for sale, and, having accosted him, began to remonstrate with him on the wickedness of his proceedings, when he inquired with evident surprise, how she became enabled to observe him, as he was invisible to all else. She explained the use that had been made of his ointment, and pointed to the powerful eye; but hardly had the words been uttered and the organ of supernatural vision indicated, before he raised his clenched hand, and with one blow struck out the offending optic, or rather reduced it to a state of total and irrecoverable blindness. Another anecdote refers to a milkmaid, who, whilst engaged in her avocation, perceived a jug and sixpence placed near to her by some invisible means; but no way disconcerted by the singular event, and probably attributing it to the agency of one of the elvan tribes, she filled the pitcher with milk, and, having watched its mysterious disappearance and, with unerring commercial instinct, pocketed the silver coin, took her departure. This episode was repeated for many successive mornings, until the maiden, overjoyed at her good fortune, revealed the curious adventures to her lover, and from that hour the hobgoblins appear either to have grown less thirsty, or, annoyed at what they might consider the betrayal of their secret, to have removed their custom to some other dairy, for neither