An old Vicar of Braddan kept a horse that kept being taken in the night. In the morning it would be back in the field, sweating and worn out, as if it had been ridden hard for hours.
One morning at dawn the vicar was coming home after taking the sacrament to a dying parishioner, and he saw a small man in green leading his horse back into the field. The moment the little man saw he was being watched, he vanished, leaving the saddle behind on the ground. It was a fairy saddle, and when the vicar went to pick it up it had turned to stone.
The horse was never taken again. The road where the saddle was left came to be called the Saddle Road, and Moore says the stone was still pointed out in his day.
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