But the farmer's son had dropped it as he came along, by his mother's
direction, in such a place that the judge could not pick it up without
putting his foot on the edge of the fairy ring. No sooner had he done
so than he perceived an innumerable company of little people dressed
in green cloaks and hoods, who were dancing round in a circle as wide
as the ring itself.
They were all about two feet high, and had aged faces, brown and
withered, like the knots on gnarled trees in hedge bottoms, and they
squinted horribly; but, in spite of their seeming age, they flew round
and round like children.
"Mr. Sheriff! Mr. Sheriff!" cried the judge, "come and see the
dancing. And hear the music, too, which is so lively that it makes the
soles of my feet tickle."
"There is no music, my Lord Judge," said the sheriff, running down the
hill. "It is the wind whistling over the grass that your lordship
hears."
But when the sheriff had put his foot by the judge's foot, he saw and
heard the same, and he cried out, "Quick, Gaoler, and come down! I
should like you to be witness to this matter. And you may take my arm,
Gaoler, for the music makes me feel unsteady."
"There is no music, sir," said the gaoler; "but your worship doubtless
hears the creaking of the gallows."
But no sooner had the gaoler's feet touched the fairy ring, than he
saw and heard like the rest, and he called lustily to the chaplain to
come and stop the unhallowed measure.
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