'I am fine and glad you have come, Grannie,' whispered the child, before the old woman could say anything. 'I believe it is the Piskeys who have eaten the junket and things you made for Granfer. I saw a dinky little fellow not much bigger than your thumb go in through the keyhole just now. They are having a fine time in there, anyhow,' as her grandmother looked at her oddly. 'If I were you, I would look through the keyhole and see what they are doing.' And through the keyhole the old woman looked, and saw, to her amazement, scores and scores of green-coated little men, whiskered like a man, on the oak table, standing round the junket-bowl ladling out the rich, thick junket with their tiny little hands, and half a dozen other little chaps were up in the window-sill passing out her delicious sugar biscuits to the Tiny Moormen, who were even more whiskered and bearded than their distant relations, the Piskeys. By their faces, they were all greatly enjoying themselves, and at the expense of Granfer Nankivell, the turf-cutter! Grannie Nankivell was so astonished that she lost her mouth-speech, [22] but when she found it her old voice shrilled through the keyhole: 'Filling your little bellies with the junket and biskeys I made for my old man, be 'ee?' she cried. 'I'll wring the necks of every one of you--iss fy, I will!' The old woman spoke too soon to carry out her threat, for she had no sooner spoken than the Piskeys vanished, the Tiny Moormen as well, and where they went she never knew. But her husband told her the little rascals were still in the spence when she could not see them. 'They have the power to make themselves visible or invisible, whichever is most convenient to them,' he said. 'They have done you out of your biscuits and junket a good many times, anyhow,' cried the old woman. 'Iss,' said Granfer Nankivell, 'they have; and as I did away with the Piskey-beds, we are quits. I only hope they will be of the same mind, and won't come any more and eat up those nice things you make for me. I am quite longing for a plateful of junket and one of your sweet biscuits.' Whether the Piskeys thought the old turf-cutter was sufficiently punished for clearing out their sleeping-places, or whether Grannie Nankivell's threat to wring their necks frightened them away, we cannot tell. At all events, they and the Tiny Moormen kept away from the cottage on the moor, and whenever the old woman made sugar biscuits and sweet junket, and put them in the spence, no two-legged cat, Moormen or Piskeys, ever ate up those specially-made dainties; and little Genefer's honesty was never again doubted. THE OLD SKY WOMAN When winter brought the cold north wind, and the snowflakes began to fall, the little North Cornwall children were always told that the Old Woman was up in the sky plucking her Goose.