Read "A Pixy in Petticoats" by John Trevena online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Even on Dartmoor the hours after noon on Saturday may not be violated by work. It is a time of beer-drinking, debt-renewing, and ballad-singing; when the heads of families are gathered together into one place -- the village inn; and the wives assemble in the market town to lay up provision for the coming week.
It was a Saturday in November, and the little village of Lew-upon-the-Moor appeared deserted. Ballads were being sung hoarsely and incoherently in Eastaway's inn, where that worthy soul was rattling into the till the wages he had just paid out; but the long street was empty, except for geese and dogs and the inevitable plague of fowls. Not even the witless face of old Y. was to be seen looking over his gate. The last summer visitor had left a month ago, and the parlour in every cottage had been set in order and closed for six long months. The reign of the winds had commenced.