Page:History of the Fylde of Lancashire (IA historyoffyldeof00portiala).pdf/123

 jug nor sixpence ever gladened the morning labours of the milkmaid again. A ploughman had his good nature, in cheerfully repairing the broken "spittle" of a lady liberally rewarded. The fairy, for such she proved to be, made known her presence to the agriculturist by suddenly crying in a distressed tone—"I have broken my speet," and then held out in her hands the useless instrument with a hammer and nails. No sooner had she received her property, restored to a state of utility, than she vanished into the earth, but not, however, without leaving a substantial acknowledgment of his skill and kindness in the palm of the astonished husbandman.

We can only discover a record of one witch in the Fylde; this person of unenviable notoriety is stated to have had her abode in Singleton, and to have been known to the villagers as Mag Shelton. Her food, according to local tradition, was composed of boiled groats mixed with thyme or parsley, and numerous are the anecdotes related of her evil machinations and doings in the neighbourhood—the cows of the country people were constantly milked by her, whilst the pitcher walked before her in the form of a goose; lives were blighted and prosperity checked by the influence of her evil eye. Once, however, she was foiled by a girl, who fastened her to a chair by sticking a bodkin, crossed with two weavers' healds, about her dress when seated before a large fire.

Some idea of the spiritual condition of the peasantry may be obtained from the perusal of the following prayer, a common one amongst the children of the Fylde about one hundred years ago:—

"Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, Bless the bed that I lie on; There are four corners to my bed, And four angels overspread, Two at the feet and two at the head. If any ill thing me betide, Beneath your wings my body hide. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, Bless the bed that I lie on."

Bacon was considered to prove the finest and best if the hogs were slaughtered before the moon began to wane, and in some month whose name contained the letter R:—

"Unless your bacon you would mar Kill not your pig without the R."