Regina, Regina Pigmeorum, Veni

One night a middle-aged man, who had lived all his life far from the
noise of cab-wheels, a young girl, a relation of his, who was reported
to be enough of a seer to catch a glimpse of unaccountable lights
moving over the fields among the cattle, and myself, were walking along
a far western sandy shore. We talked of the Forgetful People as the
faery people are sometimes called, and came in the midst of our talk to
a notable haunt of theirs, a shallow cave amidst black rocks, with its
reflection under it in the wet sea sand. I asked the young girl if she
could see anything, for I had quite a number of things to ask the
Forgetful People. She stood still for a few minutes, and I saw that she
was passing into a kind of waking trance, in which the cold sea breeze
no longer troubled her, nor the dull boom of the sea distracted her
attention. I then called aloud the names of the great faeries, and in a
moment or two she said that she could hear music far inside the rocks,
and then a sound of confused talking, and of people stamping their feet
as if to applaud some unseen performer. Up to this my other friend had
been walking to and fro some yards off, but now he passed close to us,
and as he did so said suddenly that we were going to be interrupted,
for he heard the laughter of children somewhere beyond the rocks. We
were, however, quite alone. The spirits of the place had begun to cast
their influence over him also. In a moment he was corroborated by the
girl, who said that bursts of laughter had begun to mingle with the
music, the confused talking, and the noise of feet. She next saw a
bright light streaming out of the cave, which seemed to have grown much
deeper, and a quantity of little people,[FN#6] in various coloured
dresses, red predominating, dancing to a tune which she did not
recognize.

[FN#6] The people and faeries in Ireland are sometimes as big as we
are, sometimes bigger, and sometimes, as I have been told, about three
feet high. The Old Mayo woman I so often quote, thinks that it is
something in our eyes that makes them seem big or little.

I then bade her call out to the queen of the little people to come and
talk with us. There was, however, no answer to her command. I therefore
repeated the words aloud myself, and in a moment a very beautiful tall
woman came out of the cave. I too had by this time fallen into a kind
of trance, in which what we call the unreal had begun to take upon
itself a masterful reality, and was able to see the faint gleam of
golden ornaments, the shadowy blossom of dim hair. I then bade the girl
tell this tall queen to marshal her followers according to their
natural divisions, that we might see them. I found as before that I had
to repeat the command myself. The