Hob is the general name for a tribe of kindly, beneficent and occasionally mischievous spirits to which the brownie belongs. They are generally to be found in the North Country or northern Midlands. William Henderson in Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties (p. 264) mentions a localized hob who lived in a hobhole in a natural cave in Runswick Bay near Hartlepool. His speciality was the cure of whooping-cough. Parents would bring their sick children into the cave and whisper:

‘Hobhole Hob! Hobhole Hob!

Ma bairns gotten t' kink cough,

Tak't off; tak't off',

and the cure was as good as effected.

A more sinister hob, also mentioned by Henderson, was Hob Headless who haunted the road between Hurworth and Neasham, but could not cross the little river Kent, which flowed into the Tees. He was exorcized and laid under a large stone by the roadside for ninety-nine years and a day. If anyone was so unwary as to sit on that stone, he would be unable to quit it for ever. The ninety-nine years is nearly up, so trouble may soon be heard of on the road between Hurworth and Neasham.

Another hob or hobthrust mentioned by Henderson was very much of the brownie type. He was attached to Sturfit Hall, near Reeth in Yorkshire. He churned milk, made up the fires, and performed other brownie labours, till his mistress, pitying his nakedness, gave him a cloak and a hood, on which he exclaimed,

‘Ha! a cloak and a hood,

Hob'll never do mair good'