National Mischief Day 2025

Here at the South Crofty Collection we always celebrate national mischief day on October 30th in honour of all the little piskies we have around our shop!

The Curious Case of the Cornish Piskie: Mischief, Magic, and Milk

If you’ve ever misplaced your keys in Cornwall, only to find them in the fridge or tucked inside your shoe, don’t be too quick to blame yourself. You may have been “Piskie-led.”

The Cornish Piskie is a sprightly creature of folklore, known for its twinkling eyes, cheeky grin, and a laugh that echoes through the moors like wind through a tin mine. These tiny beings are said to be older than time itself—some say they’re Eve’s unwashed children, others claim they’re ancient spirits from the Celtic Pagan days, too naughty for Heaven and too nice for Hell. So, naturally, they stayed here with us.

Piskies are the original pranksters of the Cornish countryside. They delight in harmless chaos: hiding your socks, tangling your hair, and leading unsuspecting travellers into the misty wilderness of Bodmin Moor. But don’t worry—they always bring you back, eventually. They’re mischievous, yes, but never malicious. Think of them as nature’s giggling GPS with a flair for detours.

Despite their impish ways, Piskies are known to help those in need—though you should never, ever thank them. That’s a surefire way to offend a Piskie. They prefer to go about their good deeds unnoticed, like tiny, magical volunteers with a strict no-recognition policy.

According to the Polperro Piskie Lore and Legend Letters, wherever Piskies dance and sing, the earth below is rich with metal. In fact, many Cornish mines were said to be discovered by following the sound of their merry tunes. So if you hear singing in the hills, don’t be alarmed—it might just be a Piskie choir rehearsing underground.

To keep on their good side, Cornish folk would leave out bowls of milk, keep windows ajar, and even carve little holes into their stone cottages—tiny doorways for Piskies to pop in and out. Nearly every home had a charm or trinket to invite their favour, hoping for a sprinkle of luck and a dash of Piskie magic.

So next time you’re wandering the moors and the mist curls around your ankles, listen closely. You might hear a giggle, a song, or the faint patter of tiny feet. And if your spoon goes missing or your boots end up in the garden, smile. It’s just a Piskie, reminding you that magic still lives in Cornwall.

(Images AI generated)