Folksburywoods Story Blog

When the corn stands dry and brittle, and a harvest moon hangs low in the sky. The Tatterman walks in search of lost souls.

A hundred years ago, he stood as a tatterman guarding the farmers’ fields.

One fateful night, a young girl took a shortcut through the corn field and became lost. Hour after hour, she walked the rows, unable to find her way.

Some say a witch had hexed the farmer for shorting her on a sack of corn. Whatever the reason, the child grew cold and lay down near a worn-out tatterman.

The next morning, her mother found the child’s frozen body wrapped in the tatterman’s arms.

Years passed, and another child became lost in the cornfield. As she called out for help, she became aware of something moving through the stalks.

“Hello, is there anybody there?” the girl asked.

No answer came, and so the child sat on the ground, waiting for help to arrive. “Please send help. I must get this medicine to my mother,” whispered the child.

No sooner had she asked than a hand appeared before her. Instinctively, she grabbed it, but then pulled back in horror as she realized it was made of sticks.

The hand remained still and extended. The child reached up and took hold of the hand, fearing she would die if she stayed in the field.

With a slight tug, the hand led her through the rows of corn to the field’s edge. The girl glanced over her shoulder to see an enormous, cloaked figure moving away.

“Thank you, whoever you are,” the child called out, then rushed home.

After telling her mother, the girl learned of another child who had perished in the field long ago.

“I believe the Tatterman felt sad when the child had died. He vowed to keep it from happening again,” said her mother.

From that time on, no lost child ever died in those frozen cornfields. Each was helped by a cloaked figure who offered a helping hand.

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