Fairies are by no means the only mysterious sort of creatures one may see in Man; if in the classification the light-toed, little court of Oberon and Titania alone be included, the very air must be full of spirits yet, if the mists which so often envelop the island were indeed and originally the work of Angus Oge, the Immortal. As Manx grandsires and grandams still tell, those sea-mists rose at his bidding to shroud his dominions from his enemies when they were seen approaching. Hence the hero was venerated as demi-god, the Irish Neptune. Under the ground, tongue of mortal should be guarded when it speaks of the giants and terrible beings who dwell there. The main road to their abodes lies through the sealed and gloomy chambers and dungeons of Castle Rushen; but the boldest spirit must quail at the bare thought of penetrating those pitch-dark subterranean passages. Often the experience of the one man who made the attempt is related; and though he did live to tell the tale, it was only by the skin of his teeth that he escaped, and the merest intervention of Providence which prompted him “to open one door instead of another at which had he sought admission, where he would have seen company enough, but could never have returned.” Not only about haunted Castle Rushen, with its wishing-stone in the chapel, but all over the island, traditions abound, and strange beings wander at will. At Peel Castle, until recently, as soon as candles were lighted came that gruesome dog, the “Mauthe Dhoo,” as he is called—dog or devil as he may be; and by way of agreeable contrast, the “harmless necessary” and exceedingly tangible cat is to be seen by the most incredulous and unimpressionable of mortals. The creature’s deficiencies in the matter of tail only bear out the distinctive character marking all things Manx. Whether in prehistoric times the Mauth Dog in a fit of canine prejudice, bit it off, or why otherwise the Manx cat boasts nothing of a tail worth mentioning, does not seem to have been ever satisfactorily explained. Only the fact—the stump of a tail—remains. In all other respects the Isle of Man cat can hold its own with other Grimalkins of the domestic feline tribe, and indeed its fur is somewhat exceptionally fine and thick. The old heraldic Arms of Man were a “ship in her ruff”—a ship with furled sails—and were adopted by Hacon, King of Man, in the tenth century. With Goddard Crovan, son of the Icelandic Harold the Black, a new dynasty began. He slew Fingal, and allied himself with William the Conqueror. From this time the Irish, Manx and English royal families intermarried. The King of Man, in the reign of King John, paid the Pope of Rome homage for his crown. Soon after, Man fell into possession of the Kings of Scotland, but their oppressive rule drove the Manxmen to seek the protection of Edward I., who granted the little kingdom to Walter de Huntercomb. This knight presented it once again to John Baliol, King of Scotland and Edward’s vassal.