"As she walked along she would now and again cover up her right eye, and then everything would look so grand and beautiful; and looking up, she saw stars, although the sun was shining brightly, she could see that wonderfully far off. Now, she had not gone very far when suddenly the fairy prince, sitting on his horse, appeared before her. "'Good morning, sir,' she said, dropping a curtsy. "'Ah!' he cried, 'the ointment! Which eye do you see me with?' "'The left, sir.' "Instantly she felt something like a blow on that eye. The fairy prince vanished, and appeared again as the little man she had first seen. "'Nurse,' said he, 'you are blinded in your left eye as a punishment for having used the ointment. I am sorry, for you were kind to my wife. Here is a present she has sent you.' "He then gave her ten guineas, and she returned him the box. He then vanished. This is all the story that Granny told me about the fairy ointment." A farmer on the west side of Dartmoor, having had sickness among his cattle in 1879, sacrificed a sheep and burnt it on the moor above his farm as an offering to the Pysgies. The cattle at once began to recover, and did well after, nor were there any fresh cases of sickness among them. He spoke of the matter as by no means anything to be ashamed of, or that was likely to cause surprise. There can be little doubt that many of the Pixy stories, as well as those of ghosts, have their origin in practical jokes. Old Joe Leaman, of Dartmeet, recently dead, had an experience with Pysgies, as he supposed. One day, having need of fuel, he went up the Dart to cut faggots of wood in the Brimpts plantation. Whether he had leave to do so, or took it, is not recorded. He went among the trees, cut a faggot, bound it, and carried it to a place where he purposed making a pile, which he would carry home at his leisure. But he was observed by some young fellows, and after he had deposited his faggot and had disappeared in the plantation, they went to the spot, removed and concealed the faggot, and hid themselves. Presently Joe came from out of the wood with a second faggot on his back. On reaching the place where the first had been placed, he set down the second, looked about, rubbed his eyes, shook his head, and taking his staff drove it through the faggot, and pinned it firmly to the ground. Then he went again to the wood. No sooner was he gone than the young fellows crept from their hiding-place and removed the second bundle, but planted his staff where he had set it. Back came Joe Leaman bowed under a third faggot, but when he saw that the second had vanished like the first, and his stick remained, this was too much for him; down went number three, and he took to his heels, and did not halt till he reached his cottage. Some hours later the mischievous youths came in, and saw the old fellow crouched over his peat fire. "Well, Joe, how bee'st a?" "A b'aint well." "What's the matter?" "Umph! b'aint well."