When the mother's complaints are useless, she becomes a witch. The next day Urschel takes her stolen family for a walk. The mother comes up and pulls the dress of a child; by her magic art all feel it at the same time, and cry to Urschel, "Oh, mother, somebody is pulling my gown!" The latter replies, "It must be a dog." The mother then asks and obtains leave to join the party, but endeavors to bewitch (or disenchant) her children, who cry, "The Witch of London!" and scatter, but are captured by the latter and turned into witches.[142]
In Sweden the mother is called "Lady Sun." An old woman enters, propped on a cane, goes to Lady Sun's house and knocks. "Who is that knocking at my door?" "An old woman, halt and blind, asks the way to Lady Sun; is she at home?" "Yes." The old woman points out a child, and asks, "Dear Lady Sun, may I have a chicken?" She is refused at first, but by piteous entreaties obtains her wish, and returns, until all the "chickens" are carried off. "She was not so lame as she made believe," says Lady Sun, looking after her.
The antiquity of our game is sufficiently attested by the wide diffusion of many of its comparatively recent variations. We remark, further, that the idea of the child-eating demon, so prominently brought forward in our American versions, is a world-old nursery conception. The ancients were well acquainted with such feminine supernatural beings. "More fond of children than Gello," says Sappho, referring to an imaginary creature of the sort. The most ancient view of this passion for stealing children was, that it was prompted by the appetite. Tales of ogres and ogresses, who carried off and devoured young children, must have been as familiar in the Roman nursery as in our own.
The trait of limping, characteristic of "witches" in games, is equally ancient. That such demons are defective in one foot is expressed by the ancient Greek name "Empusa" (literally One-foot), to whom was attributed an ass's hoof, a representation which contributed to the mediæval idea of the devil. A child's game, in which a boy, armed with a knotted handkerchief, pursues his comrades, hopping on one foot, is known in France as "The Limping Devil."[143] This game existed also in ancient Greece.
The reanimation and recovery of the children, with which the American performance closes, is a familiar trait of ancient nursery tales.
No. 155.
The Ogree's Coop.
Half a century since, in eastern Massachusetts, it was a pastime of boys and girls for one of the number to impersonate an Ogree[144] (as the word was pronounced), who caught his playmates, put them in a coop, and fattened them for domestic consumption. From time to time the Ogree felt his captives to ascertain if they were fat enough to be cooked. Now and then a little boy would thrust from between the bars of his cage a stick instead of a finger, whereupon the ogree would be satisfied of his leanness.
No. 156.
Tom Tidler's Ground.
A boundary line marks out "Tom Tidler's Ground," on which stands a player. The rest intrude on the forbidden precinct, but if touched must take his place. The words of the challenge are—
I'm on Tommy Tidler's ground,
Picking up gold and silver.