On one of the wild carns of West Cornwall dwelt a clan of Piskey men. The moor between that carn and another almost as wild was a favorite place for their revels. On it they held their fairs and had their moonlight dances.
These Piskey men were a happy tribe, and one of their members was an especially merry person, as full of fun and mischief as he could hold together. His brother clansmen called him Little Man Antic. If there was any fun brewing, he was the brewer, if there were any pranks afoot, he was the ringleader. The Piskey men often told each other that their carn would be a very dull spot but for Little Man Antic.
One day in the early summer, the clan stood on top of the carn gazing out on the world. From that height they could command miles and miles of moorland; they could even see the sea in the distance, shining white in the eye of the sun. The Piskey men were very quiet until Little Man Antic broke the silence.
"I am inclined to have a joke with the man who lives in the cottage at the foot of our carn one of these odd days," he said. Then he turned to his brothers who were gazing up at him, "Do you know the man I mean?"
"Of course we do," they answered. "We lived here in
this carn before he was thought of."
"Why don't you have your joke now?" one of them pleaded.
"Yes, why not," said another, "for we have nothing at all to do today. Summer is a dull time of the year for folks like us. We can't lead people astray in broad day- light or play any proper tricks as it's hardly ever dark now, the sun rises so early and sets so late."
"No, I cannot have my bit of fun with the man now," said Little Man Antic shaking his head. "I must see how the land lies first."
"Tell us what your joke will be," cried the Piskey men eagerly.
"That would spoil the fun," answered Little Man Antic, "but it will be great 'un, you'll see." Screwing up his dark, twinkling eyes till they were mere slits, he looked so absurdly funny that all the Piskey men roared with laughter.
"You are a joke yourself," cried a Piskey man, stroking his long, dark beard.
"I wish you were going to have your joke with the man now, this very minute," sighed another with a woe-begone face. "I've nothing to do with myself." "Then stand on your head," laughed Little Man Antic. "If that doesn't please you, ride the billy goat that picks up his living on the carn, or wash your face in one of the rock basins here on the carn--it's quite dirty enough."
"I'll ride the billy goat willingly if you will have your joke on the man in the cottage today," the Piskey man answered.
"That I will," cried Little Man Antic. "We shall all ride him down toward the cottage. If the land lies properly I'll give you some fun today. Go and catch the animal at once. I'll ride on one of his horns, and the rest of you will ride bare-ridged." The goat was caught, and soon the Piskey men were riding him down the rough side of the great, gray carn, winking and blinking, shouting and laughing as they rode; but only the goat heard the noise they made as he went like mad down the slope. When they neared the bottom, they jumped from the goat, who went scampering up the carn again.
"Now, you wait here while I see how things look," said Little Man Antic.
He was back in a minute or two, grinning and laughing and stroking his beard.
"Well?" said the Piskey men, looking eagerly at their brother. "Have you seen how the land lies?" Little Man Antic nodded. "I have been down to the cottage and peeped in. The miner is sound asleep in the kitchen, snoring away like old boots. His wife is in the front room knitting. It's a good time to have my bit of fun. Come along," he said, and the Piskey men nodded, smelling mischief as a mouse does cheese.
Skipping and hopping, Little Man Antic led the way, followed by the whole clan. They all hopped, skipped, and danced till they drew near the cottage, when they became suddenly quiet and walked softly.
The cottage was built of stone and thatched with yellow straw. Its casement windows and white door were flung wide to the moorland air. The back door opened into the kitchen, and on the drexel the Piskey men stood and looked in. The kitchen was large and in it were a granfer's clock, a table, two or three chairs, a high- backed settle, and an oaken dresser with its shelves full of china that shone in the sunlight.
In the elbowchair the miner was asleep, and there was no sound to be heard except his heavy breathing and the ticking of the clock.
"Is that the person you are going to have a joke with?" asked one of the Piskeys.
Little Man Antic nodded.
"But he is dead asleep and the last person in the world to have fun out of!"
"He won't be dead asleep long," chuckled a Piskey man, "if Little Man Antic is going to take him in hand."
"Will you tickle his nose or give him bad dreams or what?" asked a dozen Piskeys. "What are you going to do with him, Little Man Antic?"
"Nothing," Little Man Antic answered, winking and blinking and screwing up his eyes. Then he rounded his pliant body into a ball and rolled himself into the kitchen where the man was sleeping. When he had reached the middle of the room, he straightened himself up and beckoned to his brother Piskeys to come in.
Into the bright kitchen they all trooped, but their tiny brown feet made no sound on the hard granite floor as they came.
"You can sit or stand where you please," whispered Little Man Antic, "and the sooner you take your places the better."
"We'll take our places," said the clansmen, as some of them climbed up into the settle, sitting on its seat and arms, and some of them got up on the chairs and table, and the rest stood in little groups on the floor near the whitewashed walls.
Little Man Antic, his black eyes twinkling with merriment, did not go toward the miner as the Piskey men expected but made for the dresser. Having reached it he caught hold and swung himself up on the shelf, where he bowed solemnly to the Piskey men. They were, by now, getting more and more excited, not knowing what their brother was up to. "Is it a new game?" they asked each other in whispers.
With another bow Little Man Antic turned his back on the wondering clan and calmly surveyed the long row of plates neatly arranged on the shelf. After gazing at them for a minute or more, he took one of them out. The plate made such a clatter, as it was meant to do, that it awoke the man in the chair. His face was a study as he saw the plate moving slowly across the dresser. Then he closed his eyes, shook his head hard from side to side, and opened them again, to see the plate approaching the edge of the dresser.
The Piskeys could hardly sit on the settle and chairs for excitement, while those standing on the floor were even more excited.
"What is our brother going to do with the plate?" one asked the other, their tiny dark eyes twinkling like stars on frosty nights.
Then, to their astonishment, they saw Little Man Antic climb down from the dresser with the plate.
"My ivers!" they cried, each Piskey man staring with all the eyes in his head. "Little Man Antic is bringing the great white plate down from the dresser, and the plate is almost as big as himself!"
"The best of the fun," said a much-whiskered Piskey, "is that the miner can see the plate coming down but he cannot see who is bringing it. Now he's wide awake like the day, watching his plate a-walking, and he cannot understand it."
"This is fun and no mistake," cried a hundred Piskey voices, but their voices were so soft that the sound of them might have been mistaken for the wind coming into the kitchen through the open windows and door.
"Do be quiet or you'll spoil the fun," said a Piskey man impatiently. "We can't talk and watch too. Be quiet or I'll pinch you."
"We'll be quiet for our own sakes," replied the Piskey men. "We'll be as still as the blades of grass when there is no wind to stir them." They did as they said, and not one of them moved an eyelash as Little Man Antic slowly descended to the floor, gripping the great white plate. Laughing to them- selves, each Piskey man kept one eye on the plate and the other on the miner, who was now sitting bolt upright in his chair, staring in open-mouthed astonishment.
The miner had not the gift of seeing the little invisible men, but his large white plate was very visible to him.
"My dear life!" he ejaculated at last, "my best cloam plate is clearly bewitched and is walking down from the dresser as if it had got a pair of legs." The miner's exclamation sent the Piskey men into silent fits of laughter.
Little Man Antic reached the floor in safety, and when he had winked all round at his fellows and made a few grimaces, he trundled the plate till it came to the middle of the kitchen; then with another wink he began to whirl the plate till it went round and round like a spinning jenny.
"My plate is clean bewitched," cried the miner once more. Getting up from his chair he ran into the front room shouting, "Wife, wife, come here quick. Our best tea plate have a-come down from the dresser all by itself and is whizzing on the floor like mad!" The Piskeys, hearing him, nearly burst their green coats with laughter, while one laughed so much that he tumbled off the arm of the settle on to his nose, dragging half a dozen others with him.
In the meantime Little Man Antic had stopped spinning the plate and had quickly rolled it over the floor and up the dresser, putting it back in its place. By the time the miner and his wife had reached the door, the kitchen was as quiet and peaceful as ever a Sunday morning could make it. The fresh moorland air came in the open windows, and the sunlight fell on the row of plates on the dresser.
"Did 'ee ever see anything like it in all your born days?" began the miner, when he saw there was nothing to be seen.
"Pack o' nonsense," said his wife. "Plates can't go a-spinning by themselves, that's certain, nor walk down from the dresser. You be dreaming surely." She turned quickly and went back to her knitting in the front room. The miner scratched his head and sat down in his chair, but no sooner had he done so than Little Man Antic trundled the plate down from the dresser and began spinning it again on the floor.
The miner watched in amazement. "A spirit of mischief have got into the plate," he muttered to himself. "I've heard tell of such things when the Piskeys come down from the carn and enter folks' houses to play them tricks. Now wife must believe me this time," and again he went running out of the kitchen, calling to her to come quickly.
When she came the kitchen was still as before, and everything was in its place. Perhaps the wind was making more of a rustling sound, but if it was she was far too cross to hear it. "Pack o' nonsense," she said, "disturbing me at my work with your talk of Piskeys. Piskeys indeed! Why, little bits of chaps like they couldn't spin a plate. What's more, if there were any in our cottage we should see or hear them." She turned to the miner, who was standing in the door- way rubbing his eyes. Suddenly she picked up a broom from the hearth and held it up to him. "Be off with you now and let the moorland air wash the nonsense from your eyes.'
The miner ran from the cottage, and his wife ran after him, shaking the broom before her.
"Quick," Little Man Antic cried.
Every Piskey ran for a plate, and when the miner's wife came back to her kitchen, hot and breathless and very cross, she saw every plate on the dresser spinning round and round on the floor. Her eyes got bigger and bigger until they were almost as big as the plates. When the plates stopped whirling and by themselves rolled back to the dresser and climbed up its red-painted sides to their places on the shelves, she could stand it no longer. Throwing her apron over her head, she ran out onto the moor, calling to her husband to save her from the Piskeys.
"Well, did I succeed?" asked Little Man Antic as he and his brothers ascended the slopes of the carn.
"That you did," cried the Piskey men. "It was the best bit of fun we've had for many a day. It was enough to make a goat laugh, it was!" Little Man Antic made no reply. He was busy thinking up the next joke he would play.
