“I swear, Angus, I saw him out the corner of my eye on Merlin’s Crossing last Tuesday. When I turned to get a better look, he and the bird were gone,” said Tom Flannery.
“T’was a Hidden Folk for sure. I used to see’em when I was a young’en,” remarked Bill McKibben.
“Ah, the both of you are fools. Everyone knows the Hidden Folk are children’s fairytales,” snapped Angus, finishing his pint.
The three friends lived in Devon and knew of many magical happenings. The youngest, Tom, talked about seeing mystical creatures while walking home at dusk.
“That Tom is a wild one with his fairies and goblin stories. He makes it up out of boredom. Still, watching grain grind would make me mad as a hatter,” Angus often said.
One day, Tom’s mum was feeling ill. As the boy rushed home, a robin darted past his face, which caused him to step back. “What’s this? A tiny packet has fallen from that bird,” remarked the boy.
Upon closer inspection, Tom found the packet contained white powder. When he arrived home, he told his mum about it.
“Well, my boy, it looks like the Hidden Folk have taken a shine to you. Now, put that powder in my tea,” instructed his mother.
The following morning, the woman’s fever was gone, and she was fit as a fiddle. “What was in that packet?” asked Tom.
“Don’t be a fool, boy. When the good folk give you gifts, you don’t ask questions. You thank them. Take this saucer of cream and set it on the well’s rim,” said the woman.
Tom placed the saucer and then returned to the cottage. “I hope that cream is enough. They deserve much more,” said the boy. His mother grabbed him by the ear and sat him at the table.
“Listen here, Tom Flannery. I will tell you this once and once only. The Hidden Folk don’t want fancies. They want respect, so don’t you get any ideas about buying a doodah and giving it to them? We’ll have no peace for a month of Sundays,” said his mother.
Poor Tom only meant well but feared his mother’s wrath, so he did as he was told.
While walking back from the mill a year later, Tom noticed a bird flying next to him. He turned his head for a closer look, and a tiny man dressed in green sat on the bird’s back.
Tom remembered his mother’s words and tipped his hat, saying, ” I am much obliged for your kindness.”
The wee man gave Tom a wink, and then he and the bird vanished. “I’ll not tell Angus and Bill. They’ll toss me in the millpond to sober me up,” remarked the boy.
Over the years, Tom found packets of powders or gold nuggets when the need arose.
Tom always left a small saucer of cream on the well’s rim and nothing more.
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