“Sir,”—this is the man’s own account,—“I looked and listened a while, and then I got quietly hold of a great big stone, and heaved it up, and I dreshed in amongst them all; and then I up on my horse, and galloped away as hard as I could, and never drew rein till I came home to Morwenstow. But, when the stone fell among them all, out went the light. You don’t believe me? But it be true, true as gospel; for next day I went back to the spot, and there lay the stone, just where I had dreshed it.” I have got a curious oil-painting in Lew Trenchard House, dating from the reign of William and Mary as I judge by the costume. It represents a pixie revel. In the background is an elfin city, illumined by the moon. Before the gates is a ring of tiny beings, dancing merrily around what is probably a corpse-candle: it is a candle-stump, standing on the ground, and the flame diffuses a pallid white light. In the foreground is water, on which floats a pumpkin, with a quarter cut out of it, so as to turn it into a boat with a hood. In this the pixie king and his consort are enthroned, while round the sides of the boat sit the court, dressed in the costume of the period of William of Orange. On the hood sits a little elf, with a red toadstool, as an umbrella, over the heads of the king and queen. In the bow sits Jack-o’-lantern, with a cresset in his hands, dressed in a red jacket. Beside him is an elf playing on a Jew’s-harp, which is as large as himself; and another mischievous red-coated sprite is touching the vibrating tongue of the harp with a large extinguisher, so as to stop the music. The water all round the royal barge is full of little old women and red-jacketed hobgoblins in egg-shells and crab-shells; whilst some of the pixies, who have been making a ladder of an iron boat-chain, have missed their footing, and are splashing about in the water. In another part of the picture the sprites appear to be illumining the window of a crumbling tower. Mr. Hawker had a curious superstition about fairy-rings. There was one on the cliff. Some years ago he was visited by Lady ——, who drove over from Bude. As he walked with her on the sward, they came to the ring in the grass, and she was about to step into it, when he arrested her abruptly, and said: “Beware how you set foot within a fairy-ring: it will bring ill-luck.” “Oh, nonsense, Mr. Hawker! the circle is made by toadstools. See, here is one: I will pick it.” “If you do, there will be shortly a death in your house.” She neglected the warning, and picked one of the fairy champignons. Within a week a little daughter died. Another similar coincidence confirmed him in his belief. The curate of Bridgerule and his wife came to see him, and much the same scene took place. The curate, in spite of his warning, kicked over a toadstool in the ring, and handed it to his wife.