' Then, sure enough, the ghost of Tregagle 'peared in the
court-house an' shawed the man was a liar. But they couldn' lay the ghost
no more arter; an' it was a devil-ghost, which is the worstest kind; an' it
stuck close to thicky lyin' man an' wouldn' leave en nohow. But at last a
white witch bound the spirit an' condemned it to empty out Dosmery Pool wi'
a crogan wi' a hole in it. A crogan's a limpet shell, which you mightn't
knaw, Mister Jan. Tregagle, he done that party quick, an' then he was at
the man again; but a passon got the bettermost of en an' tamed en wi'
Scripture till Tregagle was as gentle as a cheel. Then they set en to work
agin an' bid en make a truss o' sand down in Gwenvor Cove, an' carry it
'pon his shoulder up to Carn Olva. Tregagle weer a braave time doin' that,
I can 'sure 'e, but theer comed a gert frost wan winter, an' he got water
from the brook an' poured it 'pon the truss o' sand, so it froze hard. Then
he carried it up Carn Olva; an' then, bein' a free spirit agin, he flew off
quicker'n lightning to that lyin' man to tear en to pieces this time. But
by good chance, when Tregagle comed to en, the man weer carryin' a lil
baaby in's arms--a lil cheel as had never done a single wicked act, bein'
tu young; so Tregagle couldn' do no hurt. An' they caught en again, an'
passon set en 'pon another job: to make a truss o' sand in Whitsand Bay
wi'out usin' any fresh water.
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