This is from Highways & Byways in Yorkshire where the author mentions country stories of gnomes and fairies that may continue their pranks today:
There was one such in those Mulgrave Woods… Her name was Jeanie; she may still e there for aught I know, but few will go look for her when they hear what befell one who desired her acquaintance many hears ago. He was a farmer in this neighbourhood and he rode up on horseback to her dwelling, calling her by name. I do not know whether he omitted any title of respect, or whether it was merely the unauthorised attention which enraged the irritable Jeanie, .. she rushed out in a towering passion and flew at the unlucky farmer with a wand. He spurred his horse and avoided her blow, but she gave him chase, and gained upon him for all the fleetness of his horse; so shuddering and pursued the luckless farmer galloped to a brook, which he leapt in the very nick of time. For Jeanie was upon him, and as the horse rose to the leap, her wand descended on his back, cutting hm in two, so that Jeanie retained his hindquarters on her side of the water, while the farmer with the head and forelegs fell on the safe side of the flowing stream, which fairies cannot cross. It was a narrow escape and one may understand why it is that when clashing of the bottles which Jeanie and her fellow bogles seen washing their linen at Claymore Well is heard echoing down the dales, the peasants will not interfere nor attempt to see what the demons are about. …
One famous member of the clan [bogles] dwells at Runswick… or rather he did dwell there until men quarrying for jet tore down the clips and destroyed the hole in which he used to lurk, reviled because he was fond of drowning people, yet loved because he cured them of the whooping-cough.
This last one sounds more like an annoying relative. Reminds me also of an explanation of why horses in South America allow vampire bats to feed on their blood – they fan them to cool them down, so they tolerate the feeding.