According to the Fairy belief of the old Cornish folk, the Piskey has
seldom been seen in any other shape than that of a weird,
wizzened-looking, little old man. As such he has often been spied of
moonlight winter’s nights threshing the corn in the barns of lonely
places. Boslow and Lejarn are often spoken of as being favourite haunts
of the goblin. Another of his well-known pranks is to mount on the
necks of the colts, where he plaits his Piskey stirrups in the winter,
and rides the colts after the cows like mad in the summer. Leading the
folks into the bogs, by appearing like a person with a lantern or light
from a window, were of constant occurrence unless the night wanderer
took the precaution to turn some garment inside out, to break the
spell.
The Spriggans, quite a different class of beings, are the dourest and
most ugly set of sprights belonging to the elfin tribe; they are only
seen about old ruins, barrows, giant’s quoits and castles, or other
places where treasure is buried, of which they have the charge. They
also steal children, leaving their own ugly brats in their place, bring
bad weather to blight the crops, whirlwinds over the fields of cut
corn, and do much other mischief to those who meddle with their
favourite haunts.
The innocent Small-people, on the contrary, are always described as
being extremely beautiful by all who have had the luck to see them,
holding their merry fairs and sprightly dances on the velvety turf of
the greens, sheltered glades between the cairns, or in other secluded
pleasant places, dressed in their bright green nether garments,
sky-blue jackets, three-cornered hats on the men and pointed ones on
the ladies, all decked with lace and silver bells. They are as lovely
as the flowers of the fields. These good small folks often showed great
kindness to those people to whom they took a fancy, and have frequently
been known to come into poor cottages, divert good old bed-ridden folks
with their merry pranks and gambols, and fill the air with the
delicious odours of flowers, and such sweet melody as few but angels
ever hear and live.
The Bockles, or Knockers, can scarcely be classed as fairies; they seem
rather to be a hybrid race between ordinary ghosts and elves, as the
miners believe them to be the restless souls of the Jews who formerly
worked in the tin-mines of Cornwall. The tinners often hear them
working when underground; sometimes, these ghostly workers may be heard
even from the surface; yet they so rarely make their appearance now
that we hardly know what they are like.
There are a few other mythical beings belonging to our elvin creed, but
they have been so seldom seen of latter days, that very little is now
known of the Buccas, Browneys, Mermaids, &c. Probably the mermaids so
much dislike steam ships that the fair syrens have taken themselves
off, with all their combs and glasses, to the China seas, so as to be
out of the way of the fiery monsters of the deep.