I began a series of persecutions of the Kelpie on my own account.
My only excuse for them is, that I hoped by them to drive the Kelpie away.
It was the Kelpie, with an empty bag—a pillow-case, I believe—in her hand.
The kelpie gave a hideous roar, and turned away to run from the wimble.
I thought at first it was the Kelpie come after me, for it was a tall woman.
I was not too much abashed to take notice that the Kelpie bridled at this.
Mrs. Stedman's long-haired, blue Kelpie took a prize in the show of '95.
But the kelpie came every day, repeating the question, “Will you go now?”
Then,” said the kelpie “go home, and to-morrow you shall see Moneta and her child.
I doobt he's a kelpie, or a hell-horse, or something no canny o' that kin'; for faith!