A friend of mine within the last five years heard a fisher lass say to a group of her friends, ‘Ah deeant leyke t’ leeak o’ yon cloods, an’ t’ winds gittin up; let’s gan yam an’ to’n wer sarks,’ and every one of those who had a loved one on the water promptly did so.
Again, does a maiden fear that her lover is growing cold, she turns her chemise, so as to win back his cooling affections. This, like most other old beliefs, is dying out now. It is rather an undertaking, as fashion goes, for a lass to undress and dress again nowadays.
... Her Jack war on t’ sea,
An’ t’ tuckkins marked her swelling breast,
Fer her sark war to’n’d aboot.
CHAPTER IX
WITCHCRAFT
Witch-lore runs so very much in the same groove, that one fairly good example throws light on many points of interest. It was either the evil eye, or the working of some spell, injury to cattle, or surreptitiously riding horses during the midnight hour, an amusement which it would seem witches were very prone to indulge in. Then followed a visit to the wise man, during which he did something, usually winding up on his part with an incantation, or the working of some anti-witch spell by the injured ones on their own account at home.
These charms for destroying the power of witches were numerous; in fact a careless inquirer would be led to the conclusion that every dale of any size possessed its own peculiar charm, but after a little careful research and comparison, such an opinion will be found to be untenable. The difference exists only in detail, nearly all springing from one or two common roots. When and how it came about these varied alterations crept in, is somewhat of a mystery, because one would naturally suppose, where such a vital point was at issue, every word and detail as to manipulation would be most carefully handed down. The only solution I can offer—and I do so in all humility—is that these charms had their birth in remote ages. Afterwards local circumstances may have placed almost insuperable difficulties in the way of certain details being carried out; others would then be substituted as nearly approaching to the original as possible, probably by order of the priest or wise man. Add to this the fact that a fable told through long ages in different districts always unconsciously takes a local colouring, and you have a partial solution. Still, if the details differ, they do not run on widely diverging lines; in general they manage to keep fairly parallel, the main essentials being always kept well in sight. Whether animate or inanimate, the thing had to be injured, and then something burnt; midnight was always the time chosen for the final part of the ceremony, seclusion, as far as possible, and absolute silence being necessary. Many of these rites and ceremonies, especially in connexion with witchcraft, consisting as they do of blood, death, and burning by fire, seem to be all that is left us of what may have been in remote ages a propitiatory sacrifice to some pagan god.