This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1891 edition. Excerpt: ...sorts of knots." Soon after its destruction the woman ditd.--Rhys. BUTTER BEWITCHED. One day a woman who was a reputed Witch, ...Read MoreThis historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1891 edition. Excerpt: ...sorts of knots." Soon after its destruction the woman ditd.--Rhys. BUTTER BEWITCHED. One day a woman who was a reputed Witch, called at the door of a neighbouring farm-house when churning was going on, and asked the dairymaid for some buttermilk. Not having any, she refused and went on churning; but from that moment it was of no avail, as the butter refused to come, and she got none at all, while the Witch, who kept only one cow, took sixteen pounds of butter to sell, the produce of her dairy, which was a common event with her when the farmers near her were unsuccessful.--Oral. The following extract from a poem by the Rev T. E. Brown, of Clifton, entitled " The Manx Witch," gives an excellent idea of the usual Manx notions about these creatures: --THE MANX WITCH. A wutch, of coorse she was a wutch, And a black wutch, the wuss that's goin'--The white is--well, I'm hardly knowin'. Is the lek inr: but these ould things That's sellin' charms to sailors--rings, Papers, ye know I spose the most of ye's got the lek Somewhere hung about your neck. But there's odds of charms; for some is just A sort of a blessin'; but some is a cuss, Most bither--brewed in the very gall Of spite and hate, and'll creep and crawl Over your body and over your sowl, Aye, man! aye! at laste so I'm tould; And through and through, and making you sick, And making you mad--aw, they know the trick! Cussin your fingers and cussin' your toes, Cussin' your mouth and cussin' your nose, Every odd jint, and every limb, And all your inside--that's the thrim--Cussin' your horse and cussin' your cow, Cussin' the boar and cussin' the sow--Everything that's got a tail. Aye, and your spade, and your cart and your flail, Plough and harras, stock and crop, Nets and lines--they'll navar stop....Read Less
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