the end of the
garden, and sometimes into the cowhouse, the servants running after
him to see where he would go, but soon lost sight of him; but when
they returned, he would be close after them in the house, which he
did above a dozen of times. At last the little girl, seeing her
master's dog coming in, said, 'Now my master is coming he will take
a course with this troublesome creature,' upon which he immediately
went away, and troubled them no more till the month of February,
1711."

This costume is appropriate enough for an Irish spirit; but here may
possibly be some connexion with the ragged clothes of the Pixies. (Comp.
"Tatrman," _Deutsche Mythol._, p. 470.; and Canciani's note "De
Simulachris de Pannis factis," _Leges Barbar._, iii. p. 108.; _Indic.
Superst._) The common story of Brownie and his clothes is, I suppose,
connected. {515}

In some parts of Devonshire the pixies are called "derricks," evidently
the A.-S. "doeorg." In Cornwall it is believed that wherever the pixies
are fond of resorting, the depths of the earth are rich in metal. Very
many mines have been discovered by their singing.

R.J.K.

THE POOL OF THE BLACK HOUND.

In the parish of Dean Prior is a narrow wooded valley, watered by a
streamlet, that in two or three places falls into cascades of
considerable beauty. At the foot of one of these is a deep hollow called
the Hound's Pool. Its story is as follows.

There once lived in the hamlet of Dean Combe a weaver of great fame and
skill. After long prosperity he died, and was buried. But the next day
he appeared sitting at the loom in his chamber, working diligently as
when he was alive. His sons applied to the parson, who went accordingly
to the foot of the stairs, and heard the noise of the weaver's shuttle
in the room above. "Knowles!" he said, "come down; this is no place for
thee." "I will," said the weaver, "as soon as I have worked out my
quill," (the "quill" is the shuttle full of wool). "Nay," said the
vicar, "thou hast been long enough at thy work; come down at once!"--So
when the spirit came down, the vicar took a handful of earth from the
churchyard, and threw it in its face. And in a moment it became a black
hound. "Follow me," said the vicar; and it followed him to the gate of
the wood. And when they came there, it seemed as if all the trees in the
wood were "coming together," so great was the wind. Then the vicar took
a nutshell with a hole