"I walk with the owl, and make many to cry as loud as she doth hollo. Sometimes I do affright many simple people, for which some have termed me the Black Dog of Newgate. At the meetings of young men and maids I many times am, and when they are in the midst of all their good cheer, I come in, in some fearful shape, and affright them, and then carry away their good cheer, and eat it with my fellow fairies. 'Tis I that do, like a screech-owl cry at sick men's windows, which makes the hearers so fearful, that they say, that the sick person cannot live. Many other ways have I to fright the simple, but the understanding man I cannot move to fear, because he knows I have no power to do hurt. My nightly business I have told, To play these tricks I use of old: When candles burn both blue and dim, Old folk will say, Here's fairy Grim. More tricks than these I use to do: Hereat cried Robin, _Ho, ho, hoh!_" THE TRICKS OF THE WOMEN FAIRIES TOLD BY SIB "To walk nightly, as do the men fairies, we use not; but now and then we go together, and at good housewives' fires we warm and dress our fairy children. If we find clean water and clean towels, we leave them money, either in their basins or in their shoes; but if we find no clean water in their houses, we wash our children in their pottage, milk, or beer, or whate'er we find: for the sluts that leave not such things fitting, we wash their faces and hands with a gilded child's clout, or else carry them to some river, and duck them over head and ears. We often use to dwell in some great hill, and from thence we do lend money to any poor man or woman that hath need; but if they bring it not again at the day appointed, we do not only punish them with pinching, but also in their goods, so that they never thrive till they have paid us. Tib and I the chiefest are, And for all things do take care. Lick is cook and dresseth meat, And fetcheth all things that we eat: Lull is nurse and tends the cradle, And the babes doth dress and swaddle. This little fellow, called Tom Thumb, That is no bigger than a plum, He is the porter to our gate, For he doth let all in thereat, And makes us merry with his play, And merrily we spend the day." She having spoken, Tom Thumb stood up on tip-toe and showed himself, saying-- My actions all in volumes two are wrote, The least of which will never be forgot. He had no sooner ended his two lines, but a shepherd (that was watching in the field all night) blew up a bag-pipe: this so frightened Tom, that he could not tell what to do for the present time. The fairies seeing Tom Thumb in such a fear, punished the shepherd with his pipes' loss, so that the shepherd's pipe presently brake in his hand, to his great amazement. Hereat did Robin Good-fellow laugh, _ho, ho, hoh!_ Morning being come, they all hasted to Fairy Land, where I think they yet remain.