"The Green Mist."
So thou 'st heerd tell o' th' boggarts an' all the horrid things o' th' au'd toimes? Ay; they wor mischancy, onpleasant sort o' bodies to do wi', an' a 'm main glad as they wor all go'an afore ma da'ays. I ha' niver seed nowt o' that sort; cep' mappen a bogle or so—nuthin wu'th tellin' of. But if thou likes them sort o' ta'ales, a can tell 'ee some as ma au'd gran'ther tould us when a wor nobbut a tiddy brat. He wor main au'd, nigh a hunner year, fo'ak said; an' a wor ma fa'ather's gran'ther reetly speakin', so thou can b'leeve as a knowed a lot 'bout th' au'd toimes. Mind, a wunnut say as ahl th' ta'ales be tre-ue; but ma gran'ther said as they wor, and a b'leeved un ahl hissel'. Annyways a 'll tell um as a heerd um; and that's ahl as a can do.
Wa'al, i' they toimes fo'ak mun ha' bin geyan unloike to now. 'Stead o' doin' their work o' da'ays, 'n smokin' ther pipes o' Sundays, i' pe'ace 'n comfort, tha wor alius botherin' ther he'ads 'bout summat 'r other—or the cho'ch wor doin' it for 'um. Th' priests wor allus at 'un 'bout thur sowls; an', what wi' hell an' th' boggarts, ther moinds wor niver aisy. An' ther wor things as didn't 'long to th' cho'ch, an' yit—a can't reetly 'splain to 'ee; but th' fo'ak had idees o' ther o'an, an' wa'ays o' ther o'an, as 'a'd kep' oop years 'n years, 'n hunnerds o' years, since th' toime when ther worn't no cho'ch, leastwise no cho'ch o' that sort; but tha gi'n things to th' bogles 'n sich, to ke'p un friendly. Ma gran'ther said 's how the bogles 'd wanst bin thowt a deal more on, an' at da'arklins ivery noight th' fo'ak 'd bear loights i ther ban's roon' ther ha'ouses, sa'ain' wo'ds to ke'p 'um off; an' a 'd smear blo'od o' th' door-sil' to skeer awa'ay th' horrors; an' a'd put bre'ad and salt o' th' flat stouns set oop by th' la'ane side to get a good ha'arvest; an' a'd spill watter i' th' fower co'ners o' th' fields, when a wanted ra'in; an' they thowt a deal on th' sun, fur
