A retelling of The Piskey-Purse fairy tale and fable from the book The Piskey Purse by Enys Tregarthen

Chapter One

Under a hill facing a wild, desolate, and magnificent bay stood a small stone cottage with a thatched reed roof and tiny windows. It was surrounded by a low stone wall, which many generations of soft moss had made a cozy place to sit.

From the cottage, a beach of grey-gold sand stretched to an expanse of glittering water, reaching the sunset. A great headland stood guard to the north, a cliff rising out of the sea like a castle wall.

Stone cottage with thatch roof

The small stone cottage with a thatched reed roof

Three people lived in this cottage–a very old woman called Carnsew and her two great-grandchildren–Gerna and Gelert. They were a lonely trio, for they were the only people living at the bay. Gerna and Gelert never went to school. There was no school for them to go to, even if their great-grandmother could have afforded to send them, which she could not. Still, despite that, they were not ignorant children, and although they did not know A from B, they knew a great deal about the Small People, or fairies, of which there were many kinds in this land. Gerna was an especially kind hearted child.

Great-Grannie, who had lived for many, many years, told Gerna and Gelert all she knew about the secret world of the Small People! Best of all were the stories of the merry Pixies, who lived in a hidden cave right on their beach. She said the Pixies sometimes danced in circles on the clifftops under the moonlight. Gerna and Gelert were sure they could sometimes hear the Pixies laughing so heartily that they could not help laughing, too. 

One summer night, when the moon was getting near her full and making everything beautiful, the Pixies were having a wild party on the clifftops! The children could see their lights flashing and hear their happy laughter. It made Gerna and her brother wish they could join the fun.

Suddenly, the Pixie lights went out! A strange cry, like a seabird, echoed in the night. Gerna and her brother were so surprised they held each other’s hands in trembling amazement. Then, they saw hundreds of tiny figures standing in a line at the edge of the cliff. Some even seemed to be leaning over the Pixie cave! Just as quickly, the figures vanished.

The next day, as she often does, Gerna went down to the beach to collect limpets. These little snail-like creatures cling to algae-covered rocks and are food for Great-Grannie’s ducks. Imagine her surprise when she saw a bunch of little brown pouches! Her Great-Grannie had told her these were Pixie purses and that sometimes they held special Pixie gold. If you were ever lucky enough to find gold, you’d be as rich!

Gerna collecting limpets on the beach

Gerna gathering limpets on the beach

Gerna always checked the purses, even though she’d only ever found sand inside. She didn’t want to get rich, but she knew her Great-Grannie and brother did. So, she always looked, just in case! She caught a flash of something strange half-hidden under the seaweed. It was richly brown, speckled all over, and unlike any Pixie purse she’d ever seen. Picking it up, it was smooth and plump in her hand. Tiny golden rings covered it, each one shimmering with a tiny silver halo. This was no ordinary purse! It was closed at both ends, a mystery she’d never seen before.

The pixie purse on the beach

A unique Pixie purse

Just as she wondered if it was a Pixie purse, a tiny voice chirped from inside! It was high-pitched like a bird but sweeter. It startled Gerna so much that she almost dropped it.

“Hide me, quick!” the voice pleaded. “They’re coming to find this purse. Please, don’t let them see!”

Gerna’s heart pounded. Without thinking, she fumbled with her skirt and shoved the purse into a deep pocket. She had scarcely done so when she saw a tiny man emerge from Pixie Cave, followed by a whole crowd of others just like him! They all wore three-cornered hats and old-fashioned breeches. Their tiny legs peeked out from black stockings, and their feet had buckled shoes.

Luckily, they didn’t notice Gerna with her apron half-full of brown Pixie purses. Their faces, wrinkled and strange with a hint of grey-gold like old magic, were focused on the sand. It was clear by the way they searched beneath every bit of seaweed that they were desperately looking for something.

One of the strange little men โ€“ the first one who’d popped out of the cave โ€“ spotted Gerna. Instead of vanishing as Great-Grannie claimed, he tipped his tiny hat and walked right up to her! Gerna was too scared to move.

“What treasures do you hide in that apron of yours?” he asked. His smile was meant to be charming but only made Gerna more uncomfortable.

“Just Pixie purses, sir,” she managed to say, “hoping to find some of their gold inside.”

“Is that so? How kind, a big girl like yourself, to wish for the treasure of the Small People!” His eyes sparkled with mischief. ‘May I peek inside to see if your luck holds?”

“Please do!” Gerna replied. She sat in the sand, but the Little Man didn’t pick up any purses.

“The Small People would never keep anything precious in these ordinary brown things,” he scoffed, giving the purses in her apron a quick glance. “Our bags for gold are far more beautiful! They’re painted with golden rings and dashes of white.” He drew tiny circles in the sand. “If you ever find one, you’ll be a lucky girl indeed. Those ringed purses are more valuable than words can say,” he went on since Gerna was speechless, “we’re very upset to have lost one. We’ll never be happy until it’s found.”

“Oh my!” Gerna finally gasped.

“If you find our lost bag and bring it back, we’ll give you one just like it, filled to the brim with gold! You’ll be rich, able to buy whatever your heart desires.”

“Goodness gracious!” Gerna exclaimed.

“I mean it,” the Man insisted, his eyes, tiny as a robin’s but not as gentle, fixed on her face. “Just remember, if you find the purse, tell no one. Bring it straight to Pixie Cave, and keep it your secret.”

Suddenly, a booming voice echoed across the beach. It was Farmer Vivian calling. It startled the Pixie Man so much that he bolted! He and all his friends vanished back into their cave.

The Pixie cave

The Pixie Cave

Gerna almost ran after them, pretty sure the shimmering purse she’d found was the one they’d lost. But just then, a huge wave crashed against the rocks, almost knocking her over! She scrambled away to avoid getting soaked. 

As she turned to go back to her limpet picking, her basket bobbed upside down! Luckily, the tide washed it right back to her feet. Great-Grannie won’t be happy, she sighed, heading home. And those poor little ducklings will have to go without supper.

Great-Grannie was even angrier than Gerna expected! She sent her straight to bed. Poor Gelert, alone, waited and watched on the moss-covered stonewall. The Pixies never came to dance that night.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Gerna changed her clothes, and her pocket started to wiggle and shake! The same tiny voice from the sparkling purse spoke again.

“Please let me out! I have so much to tell you.”

Gerna carefully took out the purse and held it tight.

“I can’t thank you enough for not taking me to the cave,” the voice said.

“You heard him?” Gerna gasped, surprised.

“Every word! I was so afraid you’d tell him you’d found me. They accidentally dropped me off the cliff last night and would have been furious if you had my purse.”

“How did you get in there?” Gerna asked.

“Hager, the King of the Spriggans, trapped me inside!” the voice squeaked.

“But why?”

“He wanted me to marry him. And he’s afraid someone else I like will marry me instead!”

“That king doesn’t sound very nice,” Gerna said. “I’m glad I didn’t take you back to the cave! That Tiny Man promised me a bag of gold if I did. Do you think he meant it?”

“It depends,” the little voice replied. “Spriggans – those little grey-gold men – are tricky. They don’t always keep their promises. But they really need this purse back. They might give you what they offered. Do you want to be rich, dear little maid?” the voice asked eagerly.

“Not really,” Gerna said honestly. “But Great-Grannie and Gelert do! If they knew the little Man promised gold for bringing this purse to the cave, they’d make me do it. We’re really poor โ€“ poor as can be, Great-Grannie says.”

When the voice didn’t reply, she asked, “If I don’t take you to the cave, could you give me some of your gold?”

“I wish I could,” the voice said sadly. “But I don’t have any. And even if I did, it wouldn’t bring you true happiness. If you take me back, you’ll break my heart.”

“But don’t worry, I won’t take you to the cave!” Gerna said. “I am going to let you out!”

“You’re kind to say so,” the wee voice replied, sounding shaky. “But you won’t be able to open this purse. It’s really not a purse at all โ€“ it’s a prison!”

“I bet I can!” Gerna declared. “My hands are strong! If they can pull limpets off the rocks, they can definitely open this.” She began tugging at the purse, but it wouldn’t budge. After working for what felt like forever, she gave up, frustrated.

“See? I told you,” the wee voice said sadly. “Much stronger hands than yours could not open this prison bag, and no knife, however sharp, could cut its skin.” 

“But why not?” Gerna asked, puzzled.

“Because a spell has been worked upon it,” the little voice whispered.  

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Gerna.

“When Hager trapped me,” the voice explained, “he was terrified that the Good Little People, those who love me, might find a way to free me. So, he cast a wicked spell! Nobody โ€“ not even him โ€“ can open this prison for ninety-nine years and three hundred sixty-five days. Unless…

…a poor little girl who doesn’t care about gold or being rich can be found. Out of pure kindness, she must carry me in the darkest night, through a scary bog full of hobgoblins, and over a lonely moor to a special stone circle called a Tolmรชn. She has to pass me through a hole in the stone three times before sunrise, then lay me on top so the rays of the first sunlight break the spell and set me free!”

The large standing stone called a Tolmรชn.

A large standing stone called a Tolmรชn

“Wow, that’s a lot!” Gerna exclaimed. “I don’t think anyone could ever do it, no matter how kind hearted they are.”

“That’s what Hager thought,” the voice said sadly. “Once, I hoped a brave little girl might find me and help. But years passed, and nobody came. My hope was gone…until you found me under the seaweed. Now, there’s just a tiny bit of hope in my heart again.”

“Have you been trapped in this purse for a long time?” Asked Gerna, who dimly felt the poor little prisoner was appealing to her pity. 

“A very long time,” it sighed. “One hundred years, almost to the day.”

Gerna’s eyes went wide. “You must be ancient โ€“ even older than my Great-Grannie, and she’s super old!”

The little voice chuckled. “I suppose I am, by your standards.”

“You have really been stuck in here for ninety-nine years?” Gerna couldn’t hide her surprise.

“Yes,” the voice confirmed sadly. “And sadly, the time is almost up for my release. That mean Spriggan king will take me out soon if no child before that time carries me over the bog and moor and passes me through the Tolmรชn.”

“Is it true,” Gerna asked, “that you got put into this prison just because you wouldn’t marry that old Spriggan king?”

“That’s exactly why,” the voice replied. “I happened to be beautiful, you see, and because of my beauty, he stole me away from my own dear Little True Love, who was going to marry me. If it ends, as I fear it will, we’ll both be heartbroken forever.”

“Haven’t you seen your Little True Love for all these years?” Gerna asked.

“Not once,” the voice said sadly. “But, I thought I heard his voice earlier when the Spriggan told you to take the purse to the cave.”

“There was nobody there but those little men and Farmer Vivian,” Gerna explained. “He’s a big, friendly man who lives at Pentire Glaze Farm. He loves the Little People!”

“How do you know?” the voice asked, sounding hopeful.

“My Great-Grannie says so, and she knows everything about those things! This cottage is his, and when she pays the rent, they always talk about the Wee Folk.”

“Oh no! Great-Gran’s calling me. I have to put you back in my pocket for now. I hope that’s okay.”

“Anything is better than being trapped by Hager! Please promise you won’t take me to the cave, no matter what that Tiny Man offers!” the voice pleaded.

“I won’t… unless Great-Grannie finds out and makes me,” 

“Can you hide me somewhere?” the voice asked anxiously.

“There’s a big sea chest by the window,” Gerna said, looking around the simple room. 

“Then put me there!” the voice urged. “Hurry, and please come back tomorrow! I love hearing your voice, and I think you’re my true friend, dear girl!”

Before Great-Gran could call again, Gerna quickly dropped the purse into the chest. Just in time, too, because the old woman was already climbing the stairs!

Chapter Two

The small cottage where Gerna, Gelert, and Great-Grannie lived

Gerna, Gelert, and Great-Grannie’s Cottage

Great-Grannie slept in late the next day. She sent Gerna down to collect limpets for the ducks and made Gelert weed the potato patch โ€“ a chore he hated.

The tide was still high at the beach, and Gerna had to wait a long time before reaching the rocks. Once she could, she started picking limpets, never looking back.

Halfway through filling her basket, a sharp voice startled her. 

“Did you find that purse I mentioned?”

“I haven’t looked yet,” Gerna muttered, not turning around. “Yesterday, I got in trouble for picking up Pixie purses! Great-Grannie was so mad I went to bed hungry. The poor ducks did, too.”

“I’m so sorry,” the Tiny Man said, inching up the rock to be on a level with her face. “But don’t let a little thing like that stop you! Your Great-Grannie won’t be mad anymore when you have found it and receive another one full of the Small People’s gold in exchange.” 

“So, how did you lose this purse anyway?” the child asked, trying to sound casual.

“A terrible accident,” he sighed. “I took it to the clifftops where we have our games, and I dropped it! We’ve been searching ever since. Listen, I’ll repeat my offer from yesterday. You want to be rich, don’t you?”

Gerna hesitated. “We’re really poor,” she admitted. “The poorest in the parish, Great-Grannie says.”

“That’s awful,” the Tiny Man said, his voice softening. “In that case, I’ll double the reward! Two purses filled with gold if you find it. But remember, time is running out. We need it before the next new moon!”

“I know,” Gerna mumbled, still picking limpets.

“Won’t you go look now?” the Tiny Man pressed, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice. “The tide will come back in soon, and you’ll miss your chance!”

“I have to fill this basket first,” Gerna insisted. “Those ducks are how we make money, and Great-Grannie says they can’t miss a meal.”

The Little Man scowled. “You’re as stubborn as a limpet!’ he snapped. ‘And โ€“”

What else he would have said, there was no knowing, for Farmer Vivian appeared on the sands at that moment and shouted across the beach, and this caused the little Spriggan to take to his heels and run into his cave. 

Gerna did not stay on the beach after the Wee Man had disappeared–she felt afraid somehow and went home with only half a basketful of limpets. Great-Grannie was not happy about that, and she was about to send Gerna back to the beach when one of the precious ducklings took it into its head to have a fit, which so bewildered her that she sent Gelert instead! 

Gerna barely had a moment to breathe between the sick duckling and endless chores for Great-Grannie. She kept thinking about the little purse hidden in the chest… Finally, a chance appeared! But just as she tiptoed towards the stairs, Gelert burst in, face flushed with excitement.

“Guess what!” he gasped. “The little Pixie Men are back on the beach, searching high and low for something. They’ve lost a Pixie purse, and whoever finds it and brings it to their cave gets a purse full of the Small People’s golden money!”

Great-Grannie’s eyes lit up. “Think of it! Go along, both of you and search for that purse until you find it.” “The sea’s too wild now,” said the boy. 

“Oh dear, what a pity!” cried the Great-Grannie. “We must all go and look for that purse tomorrow. I wouldn’t have us lose our chance of being rich for anything.”

As they sat down to supper, Gelert blurted out, “Great-Grannie, the Wee Men said there’s a rumor! Farmer Vivian’s selling everything โ€“ even our cottage!”

The old woman’s spoon clattered against the plate. “That’s terrible news!” she cried. “Where will we go? There’s nowhere else down here, and those houses up the road cost more rent than I could ever pay!”

“Don’t worry!” Gelert said, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “The Pixie Man promised! When we find that purse, we’ll get another filled with gold. We’ll be able to live in the biggest house around!”

Great-Grannie gave a stained chuckle, a desperate sound echoing in the dim room. “He’s right!” she said. “We won’t rest until we find that purse!”

Later, when Gerna finally had a moment alone, the tiny voice whispered from the purse, “I was worried you’d abandoned me.”  

“I wouldn’t do that,” Gerna replied, a touch of guilt in her own voice. “But there’s so much going on…”

“What troubles you? Please,” the voice pleaded, “you haven’t decided to give me to the Spriggans, have you?”

“Not yet,” Gerna admitted, “but I’m afraid I might have to.” She explained how the Tiny Man had returned, how desperately they needed the gold…and how they might lose their home.

“There isn’t a word of truth about his selling your cottage,” said the little voice indignantly. “He is far too kind hearted to turn an old woman and two little children like you out of your home.” 

“But what if…” Gerna began, her voice trailing off. “If it’s true, would you give me a purseful of golden money if I don’t take you to the cave?”

“How quickly you forget, child! I told you but yesterday that I had no gold to give you,” said the little voice. “Surely you do not love money more than you do kindness and pity? And you will commit an unkind deed–for it will be unkind if you sell me for gold. Woe is me!”

Gerna squirmed. “But the purse truly belongs to their King,” she reasoned as if trying to convince herself.

“That’s true,” the voice replied softly, “but I don’t belong to him. I belong to my Mammie and Daddy and my own True Love. If you take me back, I may never see them again. I’ll be as good as dead to them, forever and ever!”

“Then those nasty little Spriggans won’t have you, no matter what they offer!” Gerna declared. “If only I could take you across that bog and moor to that special stone place you told me aboutโ€ฆ”

“Sometimes,” the voice replied, sounding a bit brighter, “a strong wish can lead to action. If you truly want to help me,” it added mysteriously, “you don’t have much time. The moon is fading, and only three clear days remain until the new moon is born.”

“I wish I wasn’t afraid of being alone in the dark,” the child said, shuddering. “I don’t think I’ll ever be brave enough to take you to the Tolmรชn, even though I want to so badly.” 

A terrible moan, full of despair, escaped the purse. “There, there,” Gerna stroked the purse gently, tears pricking her eyes. “Don’t worry, they won’t get you.”

“I can’t help it,” the tiny voice choked out. “My only hope is you, my kind friend โ€“ but even your kindness won’t stop the Spriggans once the new moon rises. I’ll lose all my strength to fight them, and they can slip right into this cottage, invisible, and take me. They know where I am, but they’re afraid… afraid you might be the one child who’s brave and selfless enough to take me to the Tolmรชn.”

“Oh, what are you going to do?” cried Gerna, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t think I could bear the thought of those horrible Spriggans taking you!”

“I know, dear girl,” the little voice replied.

“Listen,” Gerna’s voice rising with a newfound resolve, “I will take โ€“”

Suddenly, Great-Grannie’s heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. “Good night!” Gerna whispered urgently, tucking the purse away. “We’ll continue tomorrow.”

Chapter Three

Great-Grannie was up with the sun the next day and made Gerna and Gelert get up so that no time would be lost in looking for the Pixie purse. 

In her haste, Great-Grannie knocked a chunk of firewood off the stack onto her big toe. A howl of pain rippled through the cottage. It hurt enough that she had no choice but to let the children go on the hunt without her.

The sea was calm when they got to the beach.” It won’t wash anything up today,” Gelert grumbled, already frustrated. He kicked over piles of seaweed, searching frantically, but found nothing but skittering sea fleas. Gerna followed when the tide receded, but her heart wasn’t in it. Instead of searching, she pocketed seashells, her mind elsewhere.

Kind hearted Gerna's mind was elsewhere as she stood on the beach

Gerna’s mind was elsewhere

“You don’t even care about finding that purse, do you?” Gelert accused, glaring at the shells in her hand. “I bet you don’t want the gold at all!”

“Never said I did,” Gerna replied, which made the boy so angry that he stomped off across the sandbar, determined to search alone.

Gerna was stooping to pick up a shell when the Wee Man appeared beside her. A crooked smile twisted his face as he tipped his hat. 

“Have you found our lost purse yet?” he asked. “Only two days left, you know.”

“Whatever do you mean, little mister?” 

“Just what I said. Your chance to be rich will vanish. Are you looking for the precious bag now?”

“Great-Grannie sent us to look for it,” Gerna answered, avoiding his gaze. “Gelert’s searching over there.” She gestured towards the other side of the beach, where shimmering clouds mirrored in the wet sand.

“I know he is, and he seems much more anxious to find the purse than you are,” said the Tiny Man, his eyes narrowing. “Perhaps our offer wasn’t enough? We’ll triple it! Three purses overflowing with gold for you, child, if you bring us the bag. Think of it! You could buy all this land, your cottage included, and then some!”

Gerna’s eyes widened. “Truly?” 

A flicker of greed stirred within her innocent heart for the first time.

A wicked grin spread across the Wee Man’s face. “Oh, yes,” he crooned, “a very grand lady indeed! Grander even than Lady Sandys up in Churchtown.” He could practically taste his victory.

The Tiny Man’s tempting offers hung in the air, ready to ensnare Gerna, when a booming voice echoed down from the cliffs. It was Farmer Vivian, standing tall on the crest of Tristram Hill!

The Spriggan took to his heels at once. There was a helter-skelter amongst all the Little Men, whom she had barely noticed before, but now one and all rushed towards their cave, fear propelling their tiny legs.

Gelert continued his search for the purse until the sea flowed in again, Gerna sat on a rock, picturing to herself what the Churchtown folk would say to her when she bought all the land in the parish and became a person of even greater importance than Lady Sandys.

As she was enjoying all this wealth in anticipation, it suddenly rushed upon her at what price she would buy her riches–the happiness of a poor little helpless thing in a Spriggan’s prison–. She felt so ashamed of herself that the desire for gold died within her. Such pity for her little friend came in its place that she was now quite determined to take the bag over the bog country to the moor where the Tolmรชn was, no matter the risk!

When the children came home, Great-Grannie was eager to know if the purse was found, and when Gelert told her it was not and that Gerna had been looking for shells instead of the lost Pixie purse, her anger knew no bounds. She smacked the poor little maid and once more sent her supperless to bed. 

“I wish every bit of that Spriggan gold was at the bottom of the sea,” Gerna whispered, climbing the stairs to her room. Great-Grannie had never struck her before, not until this obsession with riches took hold. “It’s true,” she thought, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. “Better to be poor and have a happy heart than own all the gold in the world and feel this awful inside.”

Great-Grannie, finding her toe getting worse, followed her small great-granddaughter upstairs. As she did not go down again that night, Gerna could not speak to the little prisoner. Nor had she a moment to herself the next morning. She was busy bathing Great-Grannie’s injured toe and other tasks before leaving for the bay. 

In her desire for gold, the old woman no longer considered the hunger of her numerous ducks and told the children that finding that lost purse was of such great importance that the limpet-picking must wait until the purse was found. 

Gelert was delighted and went off to search for the purse with a light heart, but Gerna, not wanting to go to the beach at all, begged to stay at home, which made Great-Grannie so cross that she said she was not to come back until she had found it. 

Either the clock or Great-Grannie’s mind failed them because it was far later than they thought! When the children reached the beach, the tide surged in with a roar, granting them precious little time to search. Gelert dashed to the far side of the bay, leaving Gerna. But as the little maid knew there was no other purse to find than the one she had found, she began to pick up shells again. There were very lovely shells on the sands today, all the colors of the rainbow, glowing in the sun.

As she reached for one, a whole troop of Wee Men spilled from the cave, the familiar little figure leading the charge.

The wee men on the beach

The Wee Men who lived in the cave

“Shells again!” he sputtered. “With purses full of gold waiting! Tell me, child, have you changed your mind about wanting to be rich?”

“Yesterday I did,” Gerna admitted, meeting his gaze without flinching. “But now, not a bit.”

‘What!’ he cried, “you don’t mean to tell me that you will miss the great chance of having three purses full of the Wee Folks’ golden money?”

“That’s right,” Gerna stood her ground. “I don’t want even one piece of your old golden money, little Mister Spriggan!”

If the cliff towering above them had tumbled down upon him, the little Grey-Gold Man could not have looked more crushed. Then he scowled, shook his scrap of a fist at her, and yelled: 

“I know now that you found the purse we lost, and that the little voice within it–it is nothing more than a voice, remember–has bewitched you as it has others, and that it does not want you to be rich, happy, and great as we do. You will be sorry for the rest of your life! And that thing you found? It won’t even be yours to keep!”

The ocean churned, spitting a huge wave that crashed against the shore. Gerna had to dash up the beach to escape its reach. When she finally glanced back, the Grey Gold Men were slinking into their cave like a pack of scolded hounds.

Great-Grannie was furious that the purse was not found. When Gelert reported that again, Gerna had not searched for it, she not only thumped the child but sent her upstairs to stay the rest of the day. 

The poor little maid felt so miserable that she waited to take out the purse and talk to the prisoner, but when she did, she told her all she had said to the Tiny Man. 

“Did you really say all that to his face–refuse his gold and call him a Spriggan?” cried the little voice in amazement. 

“I did,” said Gerna. “And his face! You should have seen it.”

“I am sure now you are brave enough to take me through the bog and over the moor to the Tolmรชn. Will you, dear little maid?”

“I want to, more than anything,” she said. “But I don’t know the way to the Tolmรชn. There is no Tolmรชn anywhere near here that I know of.” 

“Oh, but there is!” the voice declared, surprisingly cheerful. “I don’t know the way there myself, but… there are Shoes. Special Shoes that know the path. They can carry anyone wearing them through the sloppiest, muddiest bogs.”

“Amazing!” Gerna gasped, her eyes wide. “Where can we find them?”

“Farmer Vivian has them,” said the little prisoner, with something in her voice Gerna did not understand. “They were a gift from one of the Wee Folk. Next time you see him on the beach, ask for the shoes, and if they fit you, I shall know for certain that you are the little maid who can save me.” 

“Hush!” whispered Gerna. “Great-Granie is clopping up the stairs. Quick, I have to hide you before she gets here!” “Let me into bed with you,” the little voice pleaded, barely a whisper. “Tuck me in the folds of your gown.”

Chapter Four

When Gerna was sound asleep, Great Grannie began to look into every corner of the room, muttering to herself as she did so. “I was wrong,” she said, her voice shaking. “The purse isn’t here. Oh, dear! We may never have that bag of the Small People’s money.” The old woman got into bed. But she could not sleep a wink and only dozed off just before Gerna awoke. 

The child had only time to drop her little friend into the chest before Great-Grannie was wide awake and getting up to dress. 

Again, Great Grannie hurried the children off to the beach, complaints about her injured toe echoing in their ears. As they waited for the water to recede, Farmer Vivian came across the bar, and Gelert bolted at the sight of him. 

“Well, Gerna,” the farmer said, with a kindly smile, “haven’t seen you picking limpets lately.”

“Great-Grannie ordered us to look for a Pixie purse instead,” said the little maid wearily. Then she remembered what the little voice had asked her to do if she saw Farmer Vivian. 

“Yes,” he said, in answer to her question, “I have such a pair of Shoes, and, odd to say, I have them in my pocket. What do you want them for?” 

“To see if they will fit me, please, sir. May I have them now and try them on?'”

“You may, certainly, but I am afraid they are far too small even for your little feet.”  He dipped his hand into his coat pocket and, taking out a tiny pair of moss-colored Shoes, gave them to the child. 

“Why, they are dolly’s shoes!” she declared, “only big enough for the Small People’s feet. I am terribly disappointed.”ย 

“Perhaps,” the farmer said with a mysterious smile, “try them on anyway.”

“I will, just for fun,” laughed Gerna, and, putting one of them to her barefoot, to her unspeakable amazement, it began to stretch, and in a minute, it was on! 

“Well, I never!” Farmer Vivian was full of delight. “The Shoe has a touch of magic, it seems. Try to other.”

Gerna quickly did and beamed down at her feet, a grin spreading across her face as she stared.

“You will have to keep them now,” said the farmer, lowering his big voice to such gentleness and sweetness that she would have thought it was her own little friend at home in the sea-chest if she had not known it wasn’t. 

Gerna with the moss-colored shoes

Gerna with the moss-colored shoes

“A dear little lady gave them to me to keep until I should find somebody they would fit, and I have waited a very long time for that somebody. With the Shoes, she gave me a Lantern, which she said must be given with the Shoes.” Once more, diving into his pocket, he fished out the tiniest lantern Gerna had ever seen. “Just big enough to guide a bumblebee home on a dark night!” With a wink and a hearty laugh, he turned and strode off towards the cliffs.

Gerna kept the Shoes on till the tide was down. She sat on a rock to take them off. She put them into her pocket with the tiny lantern. So occupied was she with asking herself whether she ever could take the poor little imprisoned fairy across the bog country that night–for it would have to be tonight if she took her at all–that she forgot all about the tide. When Gerna looked about her, she found that the rock on which she sat was almost surrounded by water. 

Gerna’s heart pounded. It was now quite impossible to get to the beach, and the only place not cut off by the sea was a tiny cove, a jagged crack in the cliff. It would offer shelter only for a time. She rushed towards it, her breath catching as she perched under the rock face that towered darkly above her. 

For a moment, hope sparked. She stood, cupped her hands, and screamed until her throat burned. But her shouts were drowned in the loud waves. She realized this cove wasn’t an escape. It was a trap. The only way out was to climb the rock, which was quite impossible for her. She wept bitterly.

As her sobs echoed off the cliff, a sudden scraping sound made her look up. There, in a tiny hole in the face of the cliff a few feet above her head, she saw the grinning face of the little Grey Gold Man! 

“You are trapped,” said the Tiny Man, with a cough, “and you will surely be drowned if the Spriggans do not come to your help.” 

“Will you, dear little Mister Spriggan?” cried Gerna, a flicker of hope in her tear-filled eyes. 

“Yes, if you will bring us that precious purse we know you have found.” 

Gerna’s heart sank. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I promised… no matter what.”

“Oh, then, in that case, we will leave you to the mercy of the sea! No chance for you to meddle with our plans. Tomorrow, the purse and its prisoner will be ours again, and you… well, let’s just say you will make a dainty dish for the fishes supper!”  The stone clicked, and the ugly little face disappeared. 

“Hello down there! What are you doing, surrounded by those crashing waves?” It was Farmer Vivian’s voice, booming from high on the cliff. Turning her tear-streaked face, she saw him โ€“ a tiny figure against the vastness above. “Good thing I gave you those Shoes! Put them on quickly! There’s no time to waste. Look to your right โ€“ see those steps carved into the rock?” Gerna found the hidden staircase. With each step up, her fear became hope. Soon, she stood beside Farmer Vivian on the clifftop.

“Safe as can be!” he beamed. “Don’t take those Shoes off until you’re clear of the Rings – Spriggan Traps, some call them,” he warned as Gerna turned homeward.  

Great-Grannie was much upset when she heard what dangers her little great-granddaughter had been exposed to, for Gelert had come home with the news a few minutes before that she was drowned, as he could not see her anywhere! 

The old woman’s scolding tongue fell silent. All those days of anger and greed had nearly cost her the little girl! She warmed a bowl of bread and milk for Gerna. Exhausted, Gerna ate and went upstairs quite early. She wanted to rest before taking the little prisoner to the Tolmรชn. Tonight was the night she would risk everything to save the little imprisoned voice.

Gerna’s hands trembled as she slipped the ring-marked purse from the chest. She told her wee friend all that had happened. “Those shoes saved me,” Gerna gasped, finally out of breath. “I never could have done it without them.”

“No, dear, you wouldn’t have,” the wee voice agreed. “The Spriggans were swarming, but those shoes protected you. You’ll take me across the bog now, won’t you?”

Gerna nodded resolutely. “Tonight. But I need some sleep first. I just hope Great-Grannie doesn’t wake.”

“Don’t worry,” the voice soothed. “She’s exhausted, she won’t stir. Tuck me under your chin, and I’ll tickle you awake when it’s time.”

Sleep came swiftly, but so did the tickle. Gerna sat bolt upright, eyes wide, the purse heavy in her hands.

“Dress quickly!” cried the little voice close to her ear. But before you do, let me impress on you once more that I can never repay you for your kindness and that all you do for me, you must do out of empathy and compassion and for nothing else.

“I don’t want anything for taking you to the place where you are to be set free,” said Gerna simply. “I am doing it because I love you and am terribly sorry for you and your Little True Love, and I don’t want that wicked Hager to make you marry him.”

“Then let’s hurry!” the voice trembled with joy. “Shoes on, lantern and me tucked into your dress, and we’re off!”

Gerna crept down the stairs and out into the night. Silence hung heavy, broken only by a strange echoing cry. Her little friend whispered from within her dress, “That’s Hager howling. His subjects are telling him that he must now give up all hope of ever taking to wife his poor little prisoner. Don’t let any weird sounds scare you.”

‘Are we going the right way?’ asked Gerna. The Shoes took them up a rough, steep road behind her cottage. 

Gerna sneaks out of her cottage at night

Gerna crept out into the night

“Yes, quite right; the Shoes know the way–trust them for that! Don’t worry about anything; only hold me as close to your warm little heart as possible. We must warm each other when we come to the bog country. It is bitterly cold there.” 

Gerna pressed on, her precious cargo tucked safe. The shoes propelled her through lanes, over hills, through brambles so fast she could barely breathe, let alone speak.

“It is terribly cold,” she said when the Shoes stuck in the ground for a minute, “and ever so dark, except where little lights are shining out of the dark like cats’ eyes!” She began to shiver with cold and fear. 

“Don’t be afraid,” the little voice soothed. “Hobgoblins. Cousins to the Spriggans are all working together to stop us. But they are not so clever. They know you have the Shoes, but don’t dream you possess that wee lantern too.”

“Is the Lantern any good?” asked Gerna in surprise. “Farmer Vivian said it was only big enough to light a bumble bee’s way.”

“It was a joke,” laughed the little voice. “It can do much more than that. It has the power of making you invisible, and its light will, if you hold it on your little finger, shine on your heart and keep it warm.” 

“What wonderful things there are nowadays!” exclaimed the child. 

“Aren’t there?” agreed the little voice, with a happy laugh. “The Lantern will not only give warmth, but it will also give you courage, which you will need crossing this bog country.”

And oh, how she needed that courage when the Shoes began to take her over that dreadful bog. Those countless eyes blinked in the darkness, their gaze following her every move. There were groans and sighs, too, which filled her with a nameless terror. Without her cheerful little friend whispering reassurances and the beacon-like glow of her lantern, she would have turned back. 

By the time the bog was behind her, which she later learned was a narrow, treacherous path just wide enough for two tiny feet to walk on, Gerna was utterly exhausted. The sun peeked over the horizon, but a wild moor still lay between her and the Tolmรชn. Her heart sank. Could she even reach it in time? With each step, her weariness grew. The shoes guided her and navigated the dangers but did not seem to be able to give her strength. 

“Do you think we shall get to the Tolmรชn before the sun gets up?” asked the little voice anxiously. 

“I don’t know,” Gerna’s voice barely a whisper.

“It must be later than I thought,” said the wee voice, and the little creature within the bag began to tremble. “Do hurry, dear little maid! It would be quite dreadful to fail after everything you’ve dared.”

“I am awfully tired,” was the child’s answer. “If I could only rest a few minutes, I could go faster afterward. Shall I? I am ready to drop.”

“You must not sit down until you have reached the Tolmรชn. The Spriggans are on our heels. You won’t give up, will you? Not nowโ€ฆ”

“Not if I can help it,” said the child wearily. 

Chapter Five

She continued until she reached higher ground, where she saw standing out in the fading darkness a great Tolmรชn. Gerna burst into a joyous cry as she saw it. Her footsteps quickened until she reached the base of the giant stone.ย 

“We made it to the Tolmรชn!” The little voice quivered with barely contained excitement.

“Yes,” panted the child, “and the sun isn’t up. I am awful glad–aren’t you?”

Gerna arrives at the  Tolmรชn

Gerna arrives at the Tolmรชn

“More glad than I dare say, dear little maid. But I am not out of prison yet. Is there any hint of the sunrise?” 

“There is a pinky light, yes,” answered Gerna. 

“Hurry then! Pass me through the Tolmรชn’s hole. Three times, remember.” The little voice was urgent as Gerna reached into her dress and drew out the tiny bag.

She passed the prison bag through the hole three times, just as instructed. The eastern sky grew brighter every second โ€“ the sun was seconds from rising.

Gerna passes the tiny purse through the Tolmรชn's hole three times

Hurry then! Pass me through the Tolmรชn’s hole!

“Now,” the little voice cried, “place the prison and me atop the Tolmรชn โ€“ facing east! Hurry! Then stand by and wait.”

Gerna did as she was told, her face towards the sun rising. She was very quiet, as was the little prisoner. The larks were high in the sky, singing to greet another dawn. The east grew more and more beautiful. The sky was a swirl of rose and delicate gold. 

At last, the sun flung out a great lance of flame across the moorland. The rays fell across the small ring-marked purse lying on the Tolmรชn. Gerna, whose gaze was now riveted on the purse, saw its ends open and then shrivel up, and from its black ashes arose the most beautiful being Gerna had ever seen. She was so lovely and dainty that the child could only stare with wonder and amazement. 

The Princess of the Good Little People is set free

The Princess of the Good Little People is set free

“My dearest Gerna, how can I ever repay you?” The radiant creature gazed up at her, eyes wide with gratitude. “All the treasures of the Wee Folk couldn’t match the worth of a child who chose kindness over riches. Without you, I’d still be trapped in that…” she shuddered, pointing a delicate finger at the blackened remains of the Spriggan’s prison. “Aren’t you glad you brought me freedom and such immense joy?”

‘Indeed,’ said Gerna, hardly knowing what she was saying, her eyes still drinking in the beauty of the little fairy. And you don’t seem a bit old!”

‘You thought I should look as old as your Great-Grannie, didn’t you?’ laughed the happy little creature. ‘We Fairies grow younger and fairer with age. She rose, surveying the vast moor. “A friend of yours approaches,” she announced.

“That’s Farmer Vivian!” Gerna gasped. “How did he get here? Her gaze darted towards the fairy, a flicker of worry. The fairy smiled, “Fear not โ€“ Farmer Vivian, of all people, wouldn’t harm the Wee Folk, especially not me.”

“He’s getting smaller!” exclaimed Gerna. ‘Why, he is a teeny, tiny Farmer Vivian now! Ah, dear! Everything’s turned upside down since I found that purse and dear little you inside.” Her voice trembled with a mix of joy and confusion.

“Can’t you guess who he is?” asked the little fairy, her lovely wee face radiant with a new softness.

‘No,’ returned the wondering child. ‘Who is he?’ 

“My own Little True Love!” declared the fairy. “It’s been a hundred long years, but he was always my True Love, disguised as Farmer Vivian. He stayed near all this time, just for me.”

Gerna felt a delightful daze settle over her. Nothing could surprise her now, not after everything she’d seen. And as the two Wee beloveds, separated for a century, embraced a chorus of bells filled the air – tiny, silvery chimes, unlike anything she’d ever imagined.  

Entranced as the birds’ song grew sweeter still, Gerna gasped. Hundreds of Wee Folk emerged. They came with enchanting laughter and singing towards the Tolmรชn, where the dear Little Lady and her True Love were standing hand in hand, smiling and bowing and looking as happy as ever they could look. 

Gerna realized the Little Lady was a princess! Judging by the way the Wee Men took off their caps and bowed, and the little ladies made their curtseys, the Little Lady was the eldest daughter of the King and Queen of the Good Little People.

The Wee Folk erupted in a celebration of the Princess’s newfound freedom. As they heard how much Gerna had done to free their Princess, they showered her with affection as if she, too, were royalty. They kissed her hands, brought her shimmering goblets of fairy tea, and served her delicacies on shell plates much thinner and more transparent than any shells she had ever seen. 

And so ends our fairy tale and fable as the Wee Folk Celebrate!

The Wee Folk Celebrate!

Gerna’s heart swelled. Never had she been so cherished. When she could feast no more, the radiant Little Lady and her True Love led Gerna through a rock door behind the Tolmรชn and down into a most beautiful place– a world beyond Gerna’s wildest imaginings.

This is the country where the Good Little People live, Wee Farmer Vivian told her. She saw so much her eyes swam in wonder. They arrived at the King’s Palace, which was truly the most beautiful place in this fairyland. 

Here, she was taken into room after room–each more beautiful than the last–until she came to the ‘Room of the Chair,’ a space open to the sky, floating with soft voices, sweet scents, and gentle music. At the far end of the room sat the King and Queen of the Good Little People, the Little Lady’s mother and father.

Embracing their long-lost Princess and praising her Beloved for his constancy and fidelity to their dear daughter, their gaze turned to Gerna. A hush fell. In her faded frock and bonnet, Gerna was brought before them and introduced as the little girl who chose kindness over riches.

The King and Queen’s praise washed over Gerna. This humble girl had never felt so out of place! 

“I only did what was right to do,” she insisted, her voice small.

“You have done more than you can imagine,” said his tiny Majesty solemnly. “More than we can ever repay. We could offer more gold than the Spriggans promised, but that would insult the kind hearted person you are. Instead, we give you the greatest gifts of all…”

He paused, and Gerna held her breath. “We give you the sight to see the beauty hidden in every human heart and the power to bring that beauty out. This alone will make you loved far and wide. We will teach you the secrets of the earth โ€“ of humble grasses, herbs, and wildflowers. You will understand their scents, their virtues, and their healing powers so that you, dear Gerna, may become a blessing to all. And know this โ€“ the Good Little People shall love you as they’ve loved no human before, not just for our Princess, but for the goodness that shines within you.”

Gerna’s memory blurred as to what followed. It all swirled around her as her Little Lady and Tiny Farmer Vivian escorted her along a dazzling path of bowing and curtseying Wee Folk until she came out into gardens ablaze with flowers. She was then taken through parks, where teeny, tiny deer and cows were grazing, on and on until they came to a tiny door in a cliff, when she felt the soft pressure of kisses on her face and heard the sweet wee voice she knew so well whispering in her ear, “Good-bye, dear little maid until we meet again–which shall be soon!”

The next moment, she was back. Great-Grannie’s cottage. Her own small bed. The insistent quacking of hungry ducklings. Gerna wondered as she dressed if it had all been a dream. She searched for the ring-marked Pixie purse, the wee Shoes, the lanternโ€ฆ nothing. They were gone. That, at least, must mean it was real.

So it was from that day forward all the fairy folk lived in harmony with the parish folk. The Spriggans had been sent to work breaking iron with wooden hammers in a dark cave. Gerna blossomed into a beloved woman. People adored her because she saw their goodness, and her faith inspired them to live up to it. She became a healer known for her soothing herbs and deep compassion for people and animals.

And so ends our fairy tale and fable. Though never rich, Gerna never wanted to be. Patients flocked to her, bringing their sorrows and their suffering pets. It was said she kept her connection to the fairies; her Little Lady and Little True Love still visited, and the Wee Folk aided her in making healing potions. The cliffs around the cottage often rang with Pixie laughter, put on specially to delight her.     

The End

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