294 Ol.l) SAKXIA. 



this wonderful metamorphosis, and })eih{ips being as fond of 

 good wine as the daughter of St. Faunns, once dipped her 

 sacrilegious fingers In a fountain as the clock struck twelve on 

 Christmas Eve, but ere the wine, or water, touched her lips an 

 angel smote her — she received, says the legend, " une terrible 

 cliaque " (a terrible slap) which stretched her on the ground. 

 Ever after she was convinced there was some truth in the story. 

 Tt may be added here that the late Mrs. Lane-(1arke, in 

 her "Guernsey Folk-lore," tells a story of this kind, but her's 

 goes further, for she says that the woman went at midnight to 

 the pump, and filling her hand with water put it to her lips, at 

 the same time exclaiming, " Toute eau est vin." But to this 

 a terrible voice added, " Vere, mais tu est pres de ta fin," and 

 she died immediately. 



La Bete de la Touar. 



In vulgar pronunciation, la Bete de la Touar, the Tower 

 Beast, T'Chiko, that is the Old Dog, is another of its innu- 

 merable titles, and we must own, after a cautious comparison 

 of various reports as to the monster's external appearance, 

 that it would be no easy matter, even for a Ciivier, to deter- 

 mine its species. Some will have it, in these latter days, that 

 it partook more of the calf than of any other created form ; 

 but there is one important point on which all agi-ee, to wit, 

 that it had a notable pair of large, flaming, saucer-like eyes, 

 and that during its nightly progress, six weeks before and as 

 many weeks after Christmas, down Cornet-street and through 

 old Fountain-street, dismal bowlings, yea, the horrid clank of 

 fetters, were invariably heard, chilling the blood and paling 

 the faces of all who heard them, and woe be to the unfortunate 

 man or woman Avho came face to face with the appalling 

 " thing." If it resembled anything besides itself, as the 

 Bartholomew Fair showman said of his elephant, the Hell- 

 hound of the Principality, alias the Dog of Annum, still 

 believed (under the (juernsey name) to haunt the Hartz 

 Mountains, may have been its prototype. But for La Bete 

 de la Touar our grandmother never mentioned it without a 

 reverential pause to convince us that his dogship was no 

 ordinary personage. Le Chien Bodu is everywhere the dog 

 of a nameless abyss, and T'Chi Ko, if not the very same, 

 was, no doubt, his brother or his cousin. 



The Towner of Beauregard, which has long since disap- 

 peared, once stood near the south-eastern angle of our ancient 

 town walls, at the foot of Haute ville. Here were the head- 

 quarters of La Bete de la Touar. 



