Many years ago, on a day when Midsummer's Eve fell on a Saturday, a wedding-party was celebrating the happy occasion by much merry-making. As the night drew on, and midnight struck, the fiddler declared he would play no longer, as the Lord's Day had begun. But the bride boasted she would dance if she had to go to Hell for a musician. At that moment, a gaily-dressed fiddler came by, and readily fell in with the party's desire. Yet later, when they were exhausted and wished him to stop, he would not - and they could not! In the morning, the good parson found no sign of the revellers, but in their place were groups of strange stones which stand to this day.
