t it was in vain, so that he was obliged to go home that
night, though it was very late; he had a great way to go. When the
spirit spoke, which was not very often, it was mostly out of the oven by
the hearth's side. He would sometimes in the night make music with Harry
Job's fiddle. One time he struck the cupboard with stones, the marks of
which were to be seen, if they are not there still. Another time he gave
Job a gentle stroke upon his toe, when he was going to bed, upon which
Job said, 'Thou art curious in smiting,' to which the spirit answered, 'I
can smite thee where I please.' They were at length grown fearless and
bold to speak to it, and its speeches and actions were a recreation to
them, seeing it was a familiar kind of spirit which did not hurt them,
and informed them of some things which they did not know. One old man,
more bold than wise, on hearing the spirit just by him, threatened to
stick him with his knife, to which he answered, 'Thou fool, how can thou
stick what thou cannot see with thine eyes.' The spirit told them that
he came from Pwll-y-Gaseg, _i.e_., Mare's Pit, a place so called in the
adjacent mountain, and that he knew them all before he came there. . . .
On Easter Wednesday he left the house and took his farewell in these
words:--'Dos yn iack, Job,' _i.e_., 'Farewell, Job,' to which Job said,
'Where goest thou?' He was answered, 'Where God pleases.'"

The Pwka was credited with maliciously leading benighted men astray. He
would appear with a lantern or candle in hand, some little distance in
front of the traveller, and without any exertion keep ahead of him, and
leading him through rocky and dangerous places, would suddenly, with an
ironical laugh blow out the candle, and disappear, and leave the man to
his fate.

The following tale, taken from Croker's _Fairy Legends of Ireland_, vol.
ii., pp. 231-3, well illustrates this mischievous trait in the character
of the Pwka. The writer has seen the tale elsewhere, but as it differs
only slightly from that recorded by Croker, he gives it in the words of
this author. His words are as follows:--

"Cwm Pwcca, or the Pwcca's Valley, forms part of the deep and romantic
glen of the Clydach, which, before the establishment of the iron works of
Messrs. Frere and Powell, was one of the most secluded spots in Wales,
and therefore well calculated for the haunt of goblins and fairies; but
the bustle of a manufactory has now in a great measure sca