"I can see her face, fairy-ridden. I can hear the soft Irish burr on her tongue which made the words join hands and dance, making a fairy ring that completely encircled me. I can hear her begin the tale of "Wee Meg Barnileg," knowing it already well myself, and feeling the stinging mortification of Meg's own behavior, which might well have been mine. But Johanna pointed no moral and drew no application. There was the tale -- I could take it or leave it; and always I took it."
Ruth Sawyer in The Way of the Storyteller