and maidens consulted her about their future. The winter before my encounter in the wood she bewitched five children who lived at a farm near, because their father drove her off his land when she was gathering firewood. She was, of course, held up as a bogey to terrify the young, who would not pass near her dwelling for love nor money. Our meeting in the wood emboldened me, alone amongst all the children round, to accompany some young women who wished to have their fortunes told. The procedure was, so far as I can recollect, the ordinary one of palmistry, except for the part played by an hour-glass, which was placed on a table and consulted frequently. I have never heard of another instance where this object was used in witchcraft. Perhaps the old lady got the idea from the figure of "Death," which is represented holding the hour-glass and sickle, or from its frequent occurrence on tombstones of last century, and considered it an impressive and awe-inspiring object, particularly suitable to the occult ceremony. This witch died at a very great age, and the hour-glass, which I now exhibit, came into my brother's possession.
During my boyhood many of the country people in Deeside firmly believed in the existence of the "horseman's word." By the use of this symbol horses could be groomed and harness cleaned by witches, and its possessor had, moreover, complete control over his team without the aid of whip or rein. The lucky owners of this charm were rare; indeed, I only knew one, the first horseman on a farm near Murtle, about two miles from where I spent my summer holiday. He was acknowledged to be the best horseman in lower Deeside, and this was currently ascribed to the fact that he possessed this supernatural gift. I heard of others up and down the country who knew the miraculous symbol. It was imparted only to skilled or journeymen horsemen for a sum of money, and with a certain display of ceremony. When it came to our ears, therefore, that two horsemen were to be initiated into the mystery at Murtle one evening, the opportunity was too good to be lost. Three of us—boys of ten or twelve years old—secreted ourselves amongst the rafters of the bothy where the ceremony was to take place. The horseman began by demanding an oath of secrecy from the neophytes, and then commenced reciting a rhyme in sing-song monotone. He had scarcely begun, however, when a titter from one of us
