BORROWED EYES AND EARS_The Piskey-Purse: Legends and Tales of North Cornwall

In a lane where red-stemmed tamarisks grew lived another Wise

Woman. She was a nice old body, as many of her kind were, and, like

them, was well acquainted with the healing properties of herbs and

blossoms--revealed to them, it was said, by the fairies. But this Wise

Woman was not at all liked; nobody seemed to know why, except that

she could do many wonderful things her neighbours could not, and was,

moreover, very ugly. People were even afraid of her, and never went

near her cottage unless they wanted to buy her herb physic, ointments,

and that sort of thing. But there was one who was not afraid of her

at all, and that was a dear little girl called Bessie Jane Rosewarne,

the only child of a farmer who lived near Tamarisk Lane.

This little maid had a kind heart, especially for those who were

lonely or sad; and when she knew how lonely the poor old Wise Woman

was, she often went to see her, and took her little presents in the

shape of fruit and flowers.

Annis, as the old woman was called, soon got to be very fond of the

kind-hearted child; and to show how she appreciated her kindness she

used to tell her stories about the Small People and the dear little

brown, winking Piskeys, whom she seemed to know very intimately.

Bessie Jane was always interested in the Wee Folk, particularly

the cliff ones and the sea-fairies, and expressed a great desire to

see them.

Early one afternoon the child brought her old friend a basket of red

currants and a cup of cream; and when she had set her gifts on the

table, the Wise Woman went to her dresser and took from it a very

small shrimping-net, or what looked like a shrimping-net.

'It is a present I have made for you, dear little maid,' she said.

'What is it for?' asked the child, when she had thanked Old Annis

for her gift. 'It looks like a shrimping-net, only its meshes are

so fine--as fine as gossamer--that I am afraid it will not bear even

the weight of a baby-shrimp!'

'It is stronger than it looks,' said the Wise Woman, with a curious

look in her sloe-black eyes. 'Its meshes are made out of Piskey-wool,

which the Small People spun on their own little spinning-wheels,

and which they gave me to mesh into a net. Its hoop and handle I cut

from an ash-tree, where the Wee Folk gather to hold their gammets

[46] in the moonshine.'

'Did you really?' cried little Bessie Jane. 'How very interesting! I

shall go down to Harlyn Bay at once and catch shrimps in the great

pool under the shadow of the cliffs there.'

'It will catch something nicer than shrimps, I hope,' said Old Annis,

following the child to the door. 'Whatever you catch in it, my dear,

don't let it get out of the net until it promises to lend you its

eyes and its ears for a night and a day.'

'I don't think I want anyone's eyes and ears but my own,' laughed the

little maid as she went down Tamarisk Lane, which led to Harlyn Bay,

swinging the shrimping-net as if it were a common net, and not spun

from Piskey-wool by the Small People and made by a Wise Woman.

The bay, with its great beach of golden sand, its many

hillocks--silvery-blue in places with sea-holly, and green with

clumps of feathery tamarisk--lay open before her as she came out

of the lane. There were many gulls on the wing to-day, white as

the waves that broke gently over the rocks and against the sides of

the cliffs. She looked about her, as was her wont, when she reached

the beach, but there was nobody on the bar save an old man with his

donkey, its panniers full of sand, coming up the beach on the way

back to Higher Harlyn, where he lived.

Bessie Jane made straight for the pool of which she had spoken. It was

a very deep pool, full of sea-anemones, shrimps, and lovely seaweed,

and in the centre of the pool was a rock, in the shape of an arch,

covered with mussels.

As the child was about to dip her net into the pool, she saw a streak

of silver dancing up and down in the clear water.

She watched it for a minute, and then she thought she would try and

catch it, and leaning over the pool, she put her shrimping-net under

the whirling brightness and caught it. Looking into the net to see if

it were a fish, to her great delight she saw it was like one of the

tiny sea-fairies Old Annis had told her about. It was a most beautiful

little creature; its eyes were the colour of the Cornish sea at its

bluest, and its hair, which was a pale shade of gold, was sprinkled

all over with sunbeams. It had no clothes on save a little green shift!

'Oh, you dear little darling!' cried Bessie Jane, after gazing at the

lovely atom sitting in her shrimping-net. 'I came down here to this bay

to catch shrimps, and I do believe I've caught a sea-fairy instead!'

'You have,' piped the little creature in the most silvery of voices;

'and woe is me that I am the first of the sea-fairies to be caught

in a net!'

'I hope you don't mind very much,' said Bessie Jane, looking

uncomfortable. 'I have never seen a fairy before of any sort, and

I have been longing to see a little sea-fairy like you. The Wise

Woman who lives in Tamarisk Lane, near our farm, told me about the

sea-fairies. It was she who made me the net, which she meshed her

own self out of Piskey-wool spun by the dear Little People.'

'That explains my being caught in a net!' cried the little creature,

with a sigh of relief. 'I do not mind so much now--that is, if

you will put me back into the pool. You will do me that kindness,

won't you? I and my little companions were playing Buck and Hide Away

here in the bay when the tide was in, and as I was hiding under the

rock in the pool where you netted me, the tide went out and left me

behind. You see that great bar of sand'--pointing at it with her tiny

pink finger, which was even a more delicate pink than the beautiful

tamarisk blossom that makes Tamarisk Lane and all the other lanes

near Harlyn Bay so pretty in the summer and autumn months--'it is a

terrible thing to us little sea-fairies,' as Bessie Jane nodded. 'We

have not the power to get over sand-bars. My companions are in a wisht

[47] way about me, knowing all the dangers that beset us when we are

cut off from the sea.'

'You must not be afraid of me,' Bessie Jane hastened to assure her,

thinking the little sea-fairy's words were meant for her. 'I wouldn't

hurt a hair of your bright little head. And if I can't do what you

ask me, it is because I love you so much, and want to take you home

to our farm. We live in such a dear old house! I would be ever so

kind to you, and you should be my own dear little sister. It would

be lovely to have you to play with!'

'I am sure you are very kind,' said the sea-fairy in a voice that

trembled. 'But, dear little maid, I couldn't be happy anywhere away

from my relations and friends, and I couldn't live out of the sea

very long, and if you were to take me to your house and keep me there

I should fade away and vanish with fretting.'

'Would you really?' cried Bessie Jane. 'Then I won't take you to my

home. If you like, I'll carry you down the sand and put you back into

the sea.'

'Oh, will you, dear little girl?' cried the tiny creature joyfully,

her eyes growing as bright as her hair. 'I will be always grateful

to you if you will. My little brothers and sisters and crowds of my

friends are in the sea close to the shore watching me.'

'I can't see them,' said Bessie Jane, turning her gaze seaward. 'I

can only see sun-sparks on the edges of the waves.'

'They are sea-fairies,' said the wee creature. 'You can't see their

forms, of course, and you would not have seen me if I had not been

caught in a net made out of Piskey-wool spun by the Small People

and meshed by a Wise Woman. Will you please take me down to the sea

now? It seems ages since the tide cut me off from my dear ones.'

'I will this very minute, if you will lend me your eyes and your

ears for a night and a day,' answered Bessie Jane, remembering Old

Annis's injunction.

'I will do what you ask gladly,' said the little sea-fairy, 'for I

am very grateful for your kindness in offering to take me back to

my friends. When you have put me into the sea a wave will bring to

your feet a little red ball, which will contain my ears and my eyes,

and which you must take to the Wise Woman, who will keep them until

sunrise to-morrow.'

Bessie Jane carried the little sea-fairy very carefully down the sandy

beach in the shrimping-net, and when she had put her into the sea,

the water all around her broke into white fire, and a soft, sweet

sound, like the coos of young pigeons, filled the air; and then,

as the brightness enclosed the tiny creature, she disappeared--ears,

eyes, and all!

'Oh, the sea-fairy has forgotten her promise,' cried Bessie Jane,

gazing dolefully at the spot where she had sunk.

As she was speaking, a wavelet broke at her feet, and looking down,

she saw a round ball of airy lightness and brightness lying on the

sand. It was red as pools when the sun sets, and the child picked it

up and looked at it, and through its almost transparent skin she saw

a shadow of ears and a glimmer of something blue; and she took it to

the Wise Woman, as the fairy had bidden her.

Old Annis smiled when the little girl told her what she had caught

in the shrimping-net.

'It was what I had expected,' she said. 'Now, dear little maid, you

must get up with the larks to-morrow and come here, and you shall

then see what you will see.'

Bessie Jane got out of bed the minute she awoke the next day, which

was just as the little skybirds were beginning to sing; and when she

was dressed she hurried off to Tamarisk Lane.

Early though it was, the Wise Woman was also up, and when she saw

her little friend coming, she went and opened her door.

The first thing the child saw as she came into the cottage were two

tiny ears--smaller even than a harvest-mouse's ears--on the table, and

near them two round eyeballs, with a sapphire spark in each of them.

As her glance rested on the wee eyes and ears, Old Annis called her to

her side, and taking up the ears, she dropped them into the child's

ears; then she took up the eyes, and putting some Wee Folk's glue

on their back, she put them into Bessie Jane's pretty brown ones,

and told her to look round her cottage.

The child did so, and saw to her amazement that it was full of Small

People, including little Brown Piskey-men. They were all amusing

themselves in various ways: some were running about the sanded floor;

some were looking into the depths of a Toby jug full of milk; and

some tickling Old Annis's large grey cat. The Piskeys were astride

her fiddle-backed chairs and her settle, and winked at the sweet

little maid whenever she turned her gaze their way, and they winked

so funnily she could not have helped laughing to save her life. As

she was looking at them, the Wise Woman told her if she wished to

see the sea-fairies in Harlyn Bay she must go at once.

She did not at all want to go, for the Small People were most

fascinating, she told the old woman, particularly the little brown

winking Piskeys; but she went all the same.

As she walked down the lane to the bay, she looked through the

tamarisk hedge into the common, and saw that somehow or other it looked

different. There was a soft green light hanging over it, and where the

sand was only the day before there was a multitude of most beautiful

flowers of every colour and shade, the like of which she had never seen

before. Amongst the flowers cows were feeding. The cows were ever so

small, not bigger than rats. There were teeny tiny goats there, too,

and dear little men in queer hats and coats looking after them. The

cows and goats belonged to the Wee Folk, she supposed. It was all so

delightfully different and odd, and she couldn't think how she had

never noticed all this on the common before, till she remembered she

was seeing through a sea-fairy's eyes.

As she climbed the cliffs overlooking the bay a sound of sweetest

music stole upon her borrowed ears, and glancing to where the sound

came, she saw that the edge of the low cliff was crowded with Small

People, who were singing away like a choir of song-birds. Some of them

were sitting on Piskey-stools, [48] some on the edge of the cliff,

others were standing. In the background were a score or more of

tiny musicians, with reeds, flutes, and other instruments of music

in their hands. These last were quaintly dressed in poppy-coloured

coats and speedwell-blue breeches, and on their dear little heads

were blue three-cornered hats turned up with the same rich colour as

their coats. The whole company of Wee Folk were delightful to look at

as they were to listen to; and as for the tiny ladies of the party,

they were, Bessie Jane told herself, little nosegays of wild-flowers,

and if they had not been trilling and piping as she came upon them,

she would have mistaken them for cliff-blossoms, so bright they

looked in their lovely gowns of trefoil-gold and reds, thrift-pink,

squill-blue, and all those exquisite colours that make the Cornish

cliffs so beautiful in the late spring and early summer-time.

The Small People saw the child, and seemed quite pleased to see her,

for they smiled most graciously, and one of the little musicians took

off his three-cornered hat and bowed like a courtier, and said he

hoped she did not mind their singing, as it was their custom to sing

a little impromptu song to their cousins--the sea-fairies--every

beautiful morning in May, that being, he told her, the month of

flowers and music.

Bessie Jane did not mind in the least. Indeed, she was delighted to

think she had come in time to hear one of their little songs, only

she was far too shy to say so.

She sat on the cliff where she could see the Wee Folk and Harlyn Bay

at the same time. The sea was coming in, and was already under the

cliff where she was sitting; as she looked down into the water she

saw it was full of lovely little creatures, who were gazing up at her

with all the eyes in their heads. They were sea-fairies, she could

tell, by their resemblance to the dear little thing she had caught

in her shrimping-net. They all wore little green shifts or shirts,

through which their tiny pink bodies glowed like a rose, and all had

sun-beamed hair and deep-blue eyes. Some of the sea-fairies were riding

on the backs of the waves and tossing tiny spray-balls when she first

saw them; others were darting in and out the sea-ripples as quick as

sun-flashes, and playing over the inner bay in waves of light. A short

distance out were a hundred or more little female sea-fairies dancing,

and as they danced and held each other's hands they looked like tiny

garlands of sunbeams. They were dancing to a sweet tune of their own,

or perhaps to the music of the sea, which was full of lovely sounds

to-day, and colour too--that wonderful ethereal blue which is only

seen in a summer's dawn.

Whilst Bessie Jane was watching the sea-fairies, and wondering if the

little friend she had put back into the sea were amongst them, and

if she could see her without eyes, the Wee Folk on the cliff suddenly

broke into music and song. The song was so wild and free and the music

so sweet that the sea-fairies far out in the bay came close under the

cliff and listened with the utmost joy, their tiny faces shining with

pleasure, and their small bodies swaying in time to the rhythm of the

song. As for the child, she thought it was the loveliest music she

had ever heard. The song, which was accompanied by lutes, flutes,

and reeds, and by the tapping of tiny feet and clapping of hands,

was as follows: