Page:The International Folk-Lore Congress of the World's Columbian Exposition, Chicago, July, 1893.djvu/402

334 one who brought it shall not be wounded by the thought that its efficacy was not even tested. So the necklace was placed about the baby's throat and its donor immediately disappeared.

Another hour the mother bent hopeless above the little one—another—and suddenly, as she watched, there seemed a faint quiver about the eyelids—then there was a little sigh and next a slow, half-perceptible motion of the hands; a few movements more, and the weak little arms were lifted. A wild hope throbbed through the mother's heart, there had not been for many hours such signs of life.

Just at this moment the old family physician came to inquire for the little patient he had pronounced beyond earthly aid, and immediately directed certain measures of restoration. The mother told him of the necklace—he replied very gravely that its power could not be doubted, that there were many potent natural agents of which as yet we were ignorant.

The baby wore the necklace until quite well, and it was then placed in the mother's jewelry case, but one day it was gone—no one could tell where nor how.

Among their legends none are more curious than those which treat of witches. The one following was told me by old Uncle Simon Hollowfield:

"Witches! ye's s'm—I know's cunsid'ble 'bou' dem. Dey's humins, witchesis, dey's people w'ut sheds dey skins 'er night same's you sheds yer close. I'se sted'd 'bou' witchcraf myse'f . Yer see, dey puts yer in er ku'ous cundition dat yer don' know nothin' 'n kyarnt hep yerse'f no ways, den dey jes ties yer up. Arf'er dis dey easy 'nouf puts er bridle on yer by witch means. I know'd er cull'd man way long time 'go down in Gawgy w'ut said he mistis wuz er witch uhman. Well, dis man he gin ter fall off so en ter git so po', dat he marster ax 'im w'ut wuz de matter. Den de man he up en tole 'im de sho 'nough troof, dat is, dat de mistis were er witch en dat she rid 'im ebbry night same's he wuz er boss. De marster he uv cose mighty suspris'd, en he ain' say nothin' tall jes' at fust, den he spon' dat he'd fix 'er. Well, he sot off, he did, en he got 'im er bridle wid er silvuh bit. Silvuh! hit's got mo' pow'r den mose any udder thin' whar witches is cunsarned, hit's got strenf w'ut witches kyarnt withstan' frum.