DEKPDALE CAVE. 75 



their ailments. This is why the cave is called Hob's Thirst Hole, 

 and the story carries us back to the days of faith in fairies and 

 goblins. A hob-hurst was a capricious wood elf, liurst being an 

 old English word for a wood or forest. When in a good humour 

 this elf made everything on the farm, particularly in the dairy, go 

 smooth and prosperous ; made the cows give plenty of milk, the 

 cream churn quickly into butter, and increase the quantity of 

 hay. But when irritated he would make the cows go dry, the 

 milk turn sour, the crocks smash, and generally infuse a spirit of 

 contrariness in everything. It is interesting to observe that there 

 is a Hob Hurst's House, or simply Hob's House, in ihe district 

 — a huge mass of slipped rock, full of dark fissures, over- 

 looking the Wye from the slopes of Fin Cop. I remember 

 reading this Derbyshire charm against Hob's trickiness in an old 

 volume of the Reliquary — 



" Churn, butter, churn ! 

 Peter stands at our gate 

 Waiting for a butter cake ! 

 Churn, butter, churn ! " 



This cave was the reputed residence of Hob Hurst, and the story 

 of the curative power of the water arose thus. By a very simple 

 process of abbreviation the cave would come to be also known as 

 Hurst, or The Hurst House, or Hole, that is, in Peak parlance, 

 Th' Hurst House. Indeed, I am not sure if the goblin himself 

 was not also known as the Hurst. The meaning of hurst being 

 forgotten, the spring suggested a reason for the name, and Th' 

 Hurst became Thirst. 



A little higher up, I spoke of the days of faith in fairies as 

 passed. I have just received a letter from Mr. Salt, in which it 

 appears to be about as strong as ever in the district. A local 

 farmer told Mr. Salt, three years ago, that he frequently found 

 small tobacco pipes when ploughing his fields, and he accounted 

 for them by the tradition that Deepdale had been a noted place 

 for fairies in past times. He further stated that a workman 

 crossing the dale, on his way to Chelmorton, caught one of them, 

 and put it into his bag, and took it part way home, but it shrieked 

 so pitifully that he let it go, whereupon it ran back to the dale ! 



