There is a story told of another Magnus, only in this case it was a Saint of that name. On Christmas eve, in the year 1012, a party of about thirty-three young men and women were merrily dancing in the churchyard of a certain church, dedicated to St. Magnus. A priest was at his devotions inside the church, and was so much disturbed by their merriment that he sent to them, asking them to desist for a while. But of this they took no heed, although the message was more than once repeated. Thereupon, waxing indignant, the holy man prayed his patron saint, St. Magnus, to visit the offenders with condign punishment. His prayer was heard, and the result was that the festive crew could not leave off dancing. For twelve whole months they continued dancing; night and day, winter and summer, through sunshine or storm, they had to prance. They knew no weariness, they needed no rest, nor did their clothes or boots wear out; but they wore away the surface of the earth so much that at the end of the twelvemonths they were in a hole up to their middles. The legend goes on to say, that on the expiration of their Terpsichorean punishment they slept continuously for three days and nights. There are some curious legends of underground bells which sound only at Christmas. A writer in _Notes and Queries_ (5 series, ii. 509) says--"Near Raleigh, Notts, there is a valley said to have been caused by an earthquake several hundred years ago, which swallowed up a whole village, together with the Church. Formerly, it was a custom of the people to assemble in this valley every Christmas Day morning to listen to the ringing of the bells of the Church beneath them. This, it was positively stated, might be heard by placing the ear to the ground, and hearkening attentively. As late as 1827 it was usual on this morning for old men and women to tell their children and young friends to go to the valley, stoop down, and hear the bells ring merrily. The villagers heard the ringing of the bells of a neighbouring church, the sound of which was communicated by the surface of the ground. A similar belief exists, or did, a short time ago, at Preston, Lancashire." This legend is not peculiar to England, for there is the same told of a place in the Netherlands, named Been, near Zoutleeuw, now engulphed in the ocean. It was a lovely and a stately city, but foul with sin, when our Lord descended to earth upon a Christmas night to visit it. All the houses were flaming with lights, and filled with luxury and debauchery; and, as our Lord, in the guise of a beggar, passed from door to door, there was not found a single person who would afford Him the slightest relief. Then, in His wrath, He spoke one word, and the waves of the sea rushed over the wicked city, and it was never seen more; but the place where it was immersed is known by the sound of the church bells coming up through the waters on a Christmas night.