Traditions and Hearthside Stories of West Cornwall, Second SeriesBottrell, William
General
Traditions and Hearthside Stories of West Cornwall, Second Series
Bottrell, William
Cornwall (England : County) -- Social life and customs; Legends -- England -- Cornwall (County)
"Faix, I should think the Devil got drunk at last by the way
he capered when the witches, locked hand-in-hand, danced round
the fire with him in their midst. They went round and round so
fast one couldn't follow their movements as Betty beat up on her
crowd the old tune of
'Here's to the Devil, with his wooden spade and shovel,
Digging tin by the bushel, with his tail cocked up.'"
"Over a while Old Bet stopped playing; the Devil went up to
her, drained the jack, took from her the crowd, and sang a
dancing-tune I never heard before. The words, if I remember
right were,
'I have knit and spun for her
Three years to the day,
To-morrow she shall ride with me,
Over land and over sea,
Far away! Far away!
For she can never know
That my name is Tarraway!'"
"The witches then sung as a chorus,
'By night and by day
We will dance and play,
With our noble captain—
Tarraway! Tarraway!'"
"I thought the words odd for a dancing-tune, but devils and
witches do queer things."
"The witches, locked hand-in-hand, danced madder and faster,
pulled each other right through the fire, and they wern't so
much as singed, the bitches. They spun round and round so
fast that at last, especially when the Devil joined in, my head
got light. I wanted to dance with them and called out as I
advanced, 'Hurra! my merry Devil, and witches all!' In an
instant, quick as lightning, the music stopped, out went the fire,
a blast of wind swept away umers (embers) and ashes, a cloud
of dust and fire came in my eyes and nearly blinded me. When
I again looked up they had all vanished. By good luck I found
my way out of the wood and home. I'll have another hunt
to-morrow and hope for better luck."
[17]
The Squire drank another flagon of ale; then, weighed down
with fatigue and drink, he rolled from his seat on to the floor.
Duffy covered him up. He often passed his nights thus, when
too drunk to go over stairs. As she threw over him a rug, and
kicked a pile of rushes from the floor, in under his head, he
murmured, "To-morrow, we will ride over land and over sea,
through the air and faraway!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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