I like stories of old Cornwall and it's traditions. Here's a Christmas Eve tale originally published back in 1865. I have retained the style of words as of that period.
On Christmas eve, in former days, the small people, of the spriggans, would meet at the bottom of the deepest mines and have midnight mass.
Then those who were in the mine would hear voices melodious beyond all earthly voices singing, "Now Well! Now Well!* The strains of some deep toned organ would shake the rocks.
Of the grandeur of those meetings, old stories could not find words sufficiently sonorous to speak; it was therefore left to the imagination.
But thus was certain. The temple formed by the fairy bands in which to celebrate the eve of the birth of a Saviour, in whose mercy they all had hope, was of the most magnificent description.
* Now Well! Now Well! the angel did say
To certain poor shepherds in the fields who lay
Late in the night folding their sheep;
A winter's night, both cold and deep.
Now Well! Now Well! Now Well
Born is the King of Israel!
