]

Narratives of the theft of valuables from supernatural beings are found
all the world over. In this way, for example, in the mythology of more
than one nation mankind obtained the blessing of fire. Such tales,
however, throw but little light on this one of Elidorus; and it will
therefore be more profitable in considering it to confine our attention
to those generally resembling it current among Celts and Teutons. They
are very common; and the lesson they usually teach is that honesty is
the best policy--at all events, in regard to beings whose power is not
bounded by the ordinary human limitations. Beginning with South Wales,
we find one of these tales told by the Rev. Edward Davies, a clergyman
in Gloucestershire at the beginning of this century, who was the author
of two curious works on Welsh antiquities, stuffed with useless, because
misdirected, learning. The tale in question relates to a small lake "in
the mountains of Brecknock," concerning which we are informed that every
Mayday a certain door in a rock near the lake was found open. He who
was bold enough to enter was led by a secret passage to a small island,
otherwise invisible, in the middle of the lake. This was a fairy island,
a garden of enchanting beauty, inhabited by the _Tylwyth Teg_ (or Fair
Family), and stored with fruits and flowers. The inhabitants treated
their visitors with lavish hospitality, but permitted nothing to be
carried away. One day this prohibition was violated by a visitor, who
put into his pocket a flower with which he had been presented. The Fair
Family showed no outward resentment. Their guests were dismissed with
the accustomed courtesy; but the moment he who had broken their behest
"touched unhallowed ground" the flower disappeared, and he lost his
senses. Nor has the mysterious door ever been found again.[105]

In both these cases the thief is unsuccessful, and the punishment of his
crime is the loss of fairy intercourse; perhaps the mildest form which
punishment could take. But sometimes the _chevalier d'industrie_ is
lucky enough to secure his spoils. It is related that certain white
ghosts were in the habit of playing by night at skittles on a level
grass-plot on the Lueningsberg, near Aerzen, in North Germany. A
journeyman weaver, who was in love with a miller's daughter, but lacked
the means to marry her, thought there could be no harm in robbing the
ghosts of one of the golden balls with which they used to play. He
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