Another little Pixy appeared of a far more strange appearance than his brother. He had the face of an ill-disposed child; round but roguish. His small legs and thighs were covered all over with hair; his tail, though short, was more bushy than that of little Lynx, and he had the wings of a bat, both on his shoulders and at his heels. No sooner had he appeared than he alighted at once on the broomstick of the witch; catching hold of it by his tiny fat fingers, and whirled himself round, and round, and ronnd it, in his Pixy fun, so that it dazzled Will's eyes only to see it.

Old Joan, who did not enjoy this sport so much as the Pixy, shook him off, and sent him tumbling upon the ground. He would have got a severe fall, had not a dozen or two other Pixies, till that moment unseen, rushed forward and bore him up among them as their leader and master. Joan ordered him to leave off his antics and to do her bidding. Whereupon Crabby Cross made a spring and seated himself at once upon her shoulder, and received in a whisper her commands. He gave three tumbles, head over heals, in token of obedience; and immediately after popped through the key-hole, followed by his train of attendant Pixies.

In less than a minute, there came a great bounce against the door, and in the Pixies rolled a large bee-hive, which had been taken from the cottage garden. Crabby Cross, assisted by his fellows, seized upon an old kettle that stood in the chimney nook, whilst little Lynx and two or three dozen more snatched up old Joan's ladle, and though thus heavily burthened, assisted by a whole army of Pixies, they

absolutely stuck the old kettle on the top of Will Penruffin's head; and there began to batter upon it with might and main; and the bees began to swarm upon Will's face and head in such a manner that notwithstanding all his courage he gave himself up for a dead man. But convinced she was obeyed, and that Will would really die before he spoke, the hag bade Crabby Cross desist; and at her bidding, kettle, ladle, bees and hive were as speedily moved off as they had been moved on. And now came the last trial of sturdy Will.

"Chick Pick, Chick Pick, come and soon,

Catch me a beam from the silver moon;
Make Penruffin ride with thee,

Over the land, over the sea.

If he flinch, or if he fear,

Let the winds toss him far and near;

'With dead men's bones and sticks of yew,'

Beat him, pinch him, black and blue."

"We'll beat him, pinch him, black and blue," was the chorus echoed from a thousand little throats, to this command of old Joan; and in came such a troop of hens and chickens as never before was seen.

The leader of these was a fat black hen, which, like the snake, had no sooner entered within the charmed circle than it rose into a monstrous bird. Myriads of little wretches, some with heads like those of old men, others with baby faces; some with wings of birds, others with those of bats, or flies, or gnats; and a thousand other winged creatures, all gathered round Will, and fairly pushed him on the hen's back; so that he was obliged to sit across it

for safety; as, most marvellous of all, she dashed through the cottage window, which little Lynx opened to make way for her; and though she and Will were two such large beings, they passed through it with all the ease imaginable, never even touching its sides.

Where they went to, Will's old father did not know, for he neither saw their flight nor their return, so frightened was he. And Will himself afterwards declared that he really could not very well remember where he had been; though he was not without a suspicion he had, in that brief flight, ascended above the storm and the clouds which hung over Tintagel, and had a peep at the man in the moon; who was, as he described him, an old gentleman with a long white beard, and everything about him seemed made of silver. He supposed, but could not take upon him to say it with certainty, that a moon-beam had been caught in this way, as when the black hen brought him down again and whisked him once more in safety through the window; he (Will) unquestionably had a moon-beam in his cap, which old Joan took carefully off, as he thought, with the intention to put it into pickle.

At all events, she was so well pleased with his courage and his having kept his word to obey her in three things, that she desired him to apply the charmed herbs, brought by Pixy little Lynx, to his bitten thumb, which immediately healed. He likewise, at her bidding, washed his face with the dew, also given with the herbs by the Pixy, so that not a sting from a bee remained to give him pain. And as to the fern-seed, he cast down that to the great

black hen