North Cornwall Fairies and Legends Part 8

The weather not only changed for the better, but warm soft days came, and the yellow-hammers and the black and white stone-chats must have thought summer had come again, and they sang their bright little songs, and the larks went up singing into the blue of the winter sky. Tamsin felt better than she had been for months, and became so well and cheerful, what with the brighter weather, the music of the birds, and the free laughter of the d.i.n.ky Men, that she was able to spin from morning s.h.i.+ne till evening dark, and very soon she had spun all the wool she had. She sent it in a farmer's cart to St. Columb, and the farmer's man who took it for her brought back a great big bag of flour and some more wool to spin. But when that was all paid for, and the rent money put aside, all her earnings were gone, which made the good old woman very sad, for she wanted to make a little Christmas cake for Phillida.

Christmas was on its way, and Phillida, like most children, looked forward to it; why, she could hardly have told, except that it was the Great Festival of the Nativity, and that Grannie always told her of the nice Christma.s.ses she had had when she was a croom [12]

of a cheeld, and that her mother always made her a Christmas cake, with a little bird on top, to remind her of the Great White Birds which sang when the Babe was born.

When Christmas drew near Phillida could think and talk of nothing else but the beautiful Christma.s.ses Grannie had had when she was a little maid, and of the Christmas cake with the little bird on top her mother had made for her. A few days before Christmas, as she and her grandmother were sitting down to their dinner of grail-bread, she said:

'Christmas Eve will soon be here now, Grannie. Do you think you can make me a little Christmas cake with a little cake-bird on top like those you had? Ever such a d.i.n.ky cake and ever such a d.i.n.ky bird will do, Grannie,' she added, as the old woman shook her head, 'just to see what a Christmas cake tastes like and the little cake-bird looks like.'

'I would gladly make 'ee a cake and a little bird,' said Tamsin, 'if only I was rich; but I am afraid I can't afford to make 'ee even a d.i.n.ky one. You can't buy sugar and spice and other things to make a cake without money, and I ent a got no money, not even a farthing.'

'Haven't you?' cried little Phillida, her sweet child eyes full of tears. 'I am so disappointed, Grannie; I did so hope you could afford just a d.i.n.ky cake.'

'I had hoped so, too, cheeld,' said the kind old woman. 'Never mind, I'll ask the Piskeys to come in and order you a little dream-cake an'

a little dream-bird.'

'What is a little dream-cake, Grannie, and a little dream-bird?' asked the child.

'The Piskeys used to come in through the keyhole to pa.s.s over the bridges of children's noses, when I was a little maid like you, to order their dreams. It would be ever so nice if they pa.s.sed over the bridge of your nose and ordered you a little dream-cake and a little dream-bird.'

'But you can't eat cakes in your dreams,' said little Phillida, 'and you can't hold little dream-birds in your hands.'

'Can't you?' cried Grannie. 'That's all you know about it. I will ask the d.i.n.ky Men to come through our keyhole to order your dreams the very next time they are outside our cottage.'

'They are outside now,' said Phillida. 'I hear them laughing. Listen, Grannie!' And the old woman listened, and she knew that the child was right, and that the Piskeys were outside their window, for she too heard their laughter.

'The d.i.n.ky Men be there right enough,' said Tamsin, 'an' they are tickled about something, by the way they are laughing.'

'P'raps they heard what you said about asking them to come in and order me a little dream-cake and a little dream-bird,' suggested the little maid.

'I shouldn't wonder,' laughed Grannie; 'an' I'm sure they'll be willing. I'll ask them now;' and getting up from her wooden arm-chair, she went to the door and called softly: 'Little Piskeys, are you there?'

But the Piskeys made no response to the old woman's question save by a gay little laugh.

'If you be there, an' can hear me,' said Tamsin, 'I want 'ee to be so good as to come through my keyhole on the evening of Christmas Eve an' pa.s.s over the bridge of Phillida's nose, an' order her a little dream-cake with a little dream-bird on top. I shall be so obliged to 'ee if you will, for I am too poor to make the cheeld a real cake an'

a little cake-bird.'

When the old woman had said all this, such a burst of laughter broke on the winter air outside the cottage that Phillida rushed to the door and looked out.

She could not see the d.i.n.ky Men, but their laughter was more than enough to tell her that they were there, and Grannie said she was sure they had heard what she asked, and would do it gladly.

As they stood on their doorstep they heard the sound of tiny tripping feet going away from the cottage in the direction of the Piskey Circle; and as they followed the sound they noticed how bright the Circle was on the soft green turf.

It was a perfect day--one of those very rare days we are privileged to have once or twice in December month--and the moors were full of charm. The many pools on it were full of light, the boulder near the Piskey Circle was diamond bright in the suns.h.i.+ne, and above it the furze was already breaking into golden blossom. The purple had 'pulsed' out of the heath and the pink from the ling, but each little sprig was a marvel of brown, and showed up the silver lichen that splashed the brown. The bracken was brilliant in warm tones of orange and gold, the brambles were every shade of crimson and red, and the haze on the moors was like the bloom of the hurts, [13] which still supplied food for the birds on the hills. In the direction of Roche, where the great Roche Rocks stand in lonely solitude, six hundred and eighty feet above the level of the sea, with the ruins of the little chapel dedicated to holy St. Michael on their summit, a lark went up singing into the blue, for larks, as most observers of nature know, are seldom out of song. The yellow-hammers were as bright as the brightly-coloured bracken, and sang their cheerful little lays from bramble and bush, and the streams rippled over the moors.

The old grandmother and her little grandmaid stood on the doorstep taking in the quiet beauty of the moors. They even went out on to the moor, and turned their gaze towards the Roche Rocks to see if they could see the little sky-bird. After listening ten minutes or longer to the lark and other birds, and to the Piskeys laughing, they returned to the cottage.

Fine weather seldom lasts long in winter-time, and when Christmas Eve came it was bitterly cold. A bitter wind blew over the moors from the north, which brought snow in its wake, and Phillida said the Old Woman was up in the sky picking her goose and throwing down the feathers as fast as she could throw them.

The child, who was healthy and strong, did not mind the cold, and she liked watching the feathers of the great Sky Goose whirling down on the hills and moors; but she was somewhat afraid the d.i.n.ky Men would not come over the snow to order her dreams. But her grandmother told her that she was certain the Small People no more minded the cold than she did, and would be sure to come in through the keyhole when they were in bed and asleep.

If Phillida did not mind the severe weather, Tamsin did. She could hardly keep herself warm in spite of a great fire that blazed on the hearthstone. Whatever else she and the child lacked, they always had a good fire to sit by, for the moors supplied them with furze and other firewood.

As it grew towards evening the old grandmother told her little grandchild about Christmas, as was her wont whenever Christmas Eve came round, and why they were told to keep it as a hallowed time. She also told her of the Christmas cakes taken hot out of the oven on Christmas Eve, and Christmas birds on top of them, which had made her Christmas so bright in those far-away years when she was young like Phillida.

Grannie's tales of the long ago were of absorbing interest to the child, who almost forgot that the d.i.n.ky Men were coming to order her dreams that night.

When the day had gone, and night had come, Tamsin banked up the fire on the hearthstone, and then she and Phillida went to bed. The old woman knew that the Piskeys would not come in through the keyhole until they were in bed and asleep.

The child and the old grandmother slept in the same bed, the latter at the head and Phillida at the foot. The head of the bed was against the wall by the side of the hearthplace, and Tamsin as she lay was in deep shadow, and only her white nightcap could be seen; but Phillida's charming little face was towards the hearth, and the fires.h.i.+ne fell full upon it.

The child had a fair, smooth skin and clear-cut features, and her nose had a beautiful bridge! Her hair was thick and wavy, and of a deep red gold--only a little redder than the Piskey Circle--and her eyes, when they were open, were the soft sweet blue of the Cornish Tors when the skies were grey.

The red peat and furze fire, like a Master of Magic, made the interior of the poor little moorland cottage look quite beautiful. The rough walls that went up to the brown of the thatch, where they caught the fires.h.i.+ne, glowed like the Small People's lanterns; the old dresser, which stood by the wall facing the hearth, looked as if it were painted in fairy colours, and the china on it glittered like the boulder near the Piskey Circle; and even the grail-hutch, a unique piece of furniture often seen in Cornish cottages, was turned into a thing of beauty. It was painted orange colour, and its little k.n.o.bs were black, to which the s.h.i.+ne of the fire gave depths and tones and undertones.

By the side of the bed where Phillida slept was a fiddle-back chair, and on its seat lay her little blue weekaday frock, that added to the quaint and beautiful picture. Only a small part of the cottage was in shadow, and this intensified the brightness of the room where the firelight held sway.

The cottage was looking its brightest, and was as warm as a zam [14]

oven, when a gay little laugh came through the keyhole, and a merry little face peeped into the room. In another minute a d.i.n.ky Man came out of the keyhole and sat on the wooden latch of the door and gazed curiously about him.

He was ever so d.i.n.ky, but as cheerful-looking as a robin, in his bright red cloak and his quaint steeple hat; the face under the hat was almost as brown as an apple-pip, and only a shade or two lighter than his whiskers and beard, and his queer little eyes were full of laughter and fun.

'Are the little maid and her grannie asleep?' called a voice through the keyhole as the d.i.n.ky Man sat on the latch surveying the room.

'I think so,' he answered. 'They are still as mice when Madam Puss is close to their hole. You are safe to come in.'

'Then in we'll come,' cried the little voice; and in the twinkling of an eye a tiny little fellow dressed in green came through the keyhole and pushed off the d.i.n.ky Man sitting on the latch, who fell on his head on old Tamsin's lime-ash floor.

Scores of little whiskered Piskeys--some in steeple hats and red flowing cloaks, some in green coats and red caps--came through the keyhole, and when they had swung themselves down by the durn [15]

of the door, they looked towards the bed.

'I'll get up on the bed and see if the little maid is really asleep,' said one of the Piskeys; and he climbed up to the top of the fiddle-back chair close to the bed and looked down on the child.

'Is she asleep?' asked the other little Piskeys eagerly.

'As sound asleep as a seven-sleeper,' [16] answered the d.i.n.ky Man, 'and so is Grannie Tredinnick,' sending his glance to the head of the bed. 'Get up on to the bed as soon as you like, to order the little maid's dreams--the sooner the better. We are powerless to do harm after twelve o'clock, being the night of the Birth.'

'But we have come to do good, not to do harm,' cried the Piskeys one and all, 'and we will begin at once.'

They scrambled up the legs and back of the old fiddle-back chair, and were on the bed in a quick-stick, and took their places near the sleeping child. Some sat all in a row on the edge of the patchwork quilt; some sat, or stood, on the pillow behind the child's bright little head; others were low down on the pillow; and one winking, blinking little Piskey perched himself on her arm and sat cross-legged like a tailor.

'I will be the first to order the little maid's dream,' said one of the Piskeys sitting on the edge of the quilt, and scrambling up, he stepped on to Phillida's nose as light as the feathers which the old Sky Woman had flung down on the moors, and as he walked over the bridge he said:

'Dream, little maid--dream that you are wide awake, and that you and Grannie Tredinnick are sitting at a table covered with a cloth as white as Piskey-wool, [17] and that in the middle of the table is a lovely cake made

'"Of the finest of flour And fairy cow's cream-- As sweet as your dream-- And Small People's spice, And everything nice, Kneaded and mixed, And done in a trix In a little dream-bower,"