THE
KING OF THE FAIRIES
Once
upon a time, many years ago, before steam-engines
or aeroplanes were thought of, the Fairies still
dwelt in one or two favourite spots in Scotland.
The chief rendezvous in the Midlands was the
"Fairy Knowe," near the Allan Water,
where the King of the Fairies ruled over a goodly
company, and spent the time in doing good to
those who did not speak ill of them. Many a merry
revel did they hold when the moon shone clearly
over the summit of Dunmyat, dancing in the
moonbeams and playing their funny games beside
the Wharry Burn.
One
of the merriest Fairies was one called Red
Bonnet, from the circumstance that he always wore
a red cap. When the King summoned his company to
issue out upon a midnight frolic, you may be sure
that Red Cap was amongst the first to obey the
summons, and became the leader of their merry
dances, races, and exploits. The people in the
neighbourhood who loved these little folk could
tell many a queer tale about Red Cap and his
friends, for they often left behind them traces
of their merry doings, and many a good turn did
they do to those who were considered to be among
their friends.
The
King of the Fairies was a very handsome fairy,
tall and slim, compared to the rest of his band;
and he was very fond of going off by himself
occasionally, so that he might see how mortals
lived, and how they conducted themselves in their
moments of merriment and leisure. Sometimes he
would go to watch the mill-wheel at Menstrie go
round, and see the sparkling water splash as it
came tumbling down from Menstrie Glen. He thus
came to know the miller.
This
miller had a very handsome wife, who sometimes
came to the mill to speak to her husband, and
tell him the news of the day. Her laugh was like
the sound of the gurgling water that drove the
mill-wheel round so merrily, and the King of the
Fairies would stand, himself unseen, and watch
with pleasure the pretty wife of the sonsy
miller. The more he saw and heard the miller's
wife the more he fell in love with her, so that
one day, meeting her when she was taking a walk
upthe hillside, he made himself visible, and
entered into conversation with her.
The
miller's wife had never seen so handsome a man
before, and as he spoke to her she felt quite
flattered. This meeting was followed by many
more, and by-and-by the silly matron was head
over ears in love with the Fairy. She did not
know that the handsome lover was a fairy, having
never asked him such a question, but she had
given her foolish heart into his keeping and did
not care any more for the honest miller, who
loved her all the same, and often wondered what
had come over his pretty wife. He never said a
word to her about the change which he perceived
had come over her affection for him: he thought
that everything would come right again, and so he
held his peace, like a wise man.
One
day, not long after, when the miller came from
his mill, he found that his wife had left him,
and gone off with her lover. The poor man was
perfectly distracted with grief, and went about
like one demented. He could not attend to his
work, and the music of the mill-wheel was silent,
the water rushed past without turning the big
wheel, and the farmers could not get their corn
ground, because the miller's wife had gone and
left him.
At
last the miller of Menstrie went to consult an
old woman who was said to be a witch. He told her
all his trouble, how his wife had left him, and
that he would do anything to get her back again,
for he loved her even more than ever. The old
witch said that she would cast a spell and find
out who it was who had carried off his lovely
wife, for until they knew this nothing could be
done. It took some time before the spell could be
properly cast, but at length it was done, and the
witch told the sorowing miller that his wife had
been carried off by the King of the Fairies, and
there was only one way by which she could be
restored to him again. He was to go back to his
mill, set the wheel agoing again, and resume his
ordinary employment. Then, when he was riddling
the corn, he was to give the riddle a certain
magic turn, which she showed to him, and if that
were done correctly his wife would drop down at
his feet.
The
miller returned home cheerier than he had been
for many a day, and began to work as usual. The
big wheel began to turn and drone out its usual
song, the water came splashing over the weir, and
the hum of industry was once more heard at the
old mill. One bright summer day, as the miller
was busy riddling the corn, he heard singing in
the air, and the notes reminded him of his wife's
voice. Listening attentively, he heard her
singing a plaintive air, of which he made out
this verse:
Oh,
Alva woods are bonny, Tillicoultry hills are
fair;
But
when I think o' the bonny braes o'
Menstrie,It makes my heart aye sair.
Although
the miller heard the singing he could not see his
wife, but he was convinced that it was she. Each
day he heard the same song in affectionate notes,
but the singer was always invisible. The music
always came at the time when he was engaged
riddling the corn, and try as he would he never
seemed to be able to make the magic movement
which the old witch had showed him.
At
last, one day, as he was standing at the barn
door with the corn riddle in his hand, he
succeeded in making the magic turn, the spell
that held his wife in captivity was instantly
dissolved, and she dropped down from the air at
his feet. The old mill-house was full of joy that
night, and the miller invited his friends to
share his hospitality as he told them how he had
got his beloved wife back from Fairyland. The
miller's wife would never tell anything she had
seen when with the Fairies, and her husband never
asked her what she had seen or done; he was too
pleased to have her restored to his desolate
home.
And
it is good to know that they lived happy together
ever afterwards. The Fairy King was seen no more,
and the miller and his wife sang together the old
songs they loved so well.
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The
Ochil Fairy Tales: The King of the Fairies by R.
Menzies Fergusson
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