(Eòlas a chronachaidh.)
An evil eye, according to the Highland belief, is one animated by a discontented and unhappy mind, full of envy (farmad), covetousness (sanntachadh), and such like mean feelings, and looking repiningly on the good of others, and it may be too earnestly and anxiously on what belongs to oneself. It injures the object on which it falls, and animals or persons struck by it are seized with mysterious ailments, dwindle, and perhaps die.
The believers in the gift assert that the evil eye may exist in man or woman, in friend or foe, and that it is prudent not to give causes for the feelings which give rise to it. Thus, for instance, it is advisable not to allow a cow to go without a full udder. An evil eye may rest upon it, and the animal be lost. The practice is commendable, though the reason assigned may not be the correct one. From a similar fear, a pedlar has been known to go about with his goods only at night. A mother can hurt her own child, and some have been said to hurt their own cattle. The traditions of various localities, in the islands and on the mainland, tell of a man who was not allowed to see his own cattle, from his possession of the unhappy gift. If he did see them, one of the best cows was found dead next day.
When a healthy and thriving child is seized with unaccountable illness, and becomes uneasy and sickly, it is suspected of being struck with the evil eye, and a ‘wise’ woman of the neighbourhood is sent for. She fills a bowl with clean water, into which she puts a silver sixpence. The bowl is then quickly, and dexterously turned upside down. If the sixpence stick to its bottom, the child is the victim of an evil eye (air a chronachadh), and the usual remedy is adopted.
An elder of the church, who was witness to the ceremony some fifty years ago, thus describes it (and he is a person very likely to have been observant even in his boyhood). “When a little boy, I wandered into a neighbour’s house, very likely with a piece of seaweed in my hand, and chewing away at it, as the manner of boys is. There was a child in the house very ill, but I did not think or know of this when I entered. I suppose the little thing had not sucked its mother’s breast, or taken any nourishment, for some days previously. An old woman, who came to inquire for it, on learning its condition, took a bowl half-full of water from a large tub (farmail) that was in the house, and putting it on her knees began to mutter over it. I was too young at the time to be heeded, and was not put out of the house. After muttering for a while, the old woman began to yawn, and such yawning I have never seen in all my days. She yawned, and yawned, and yawned again, till I thought she was going to die. The cat’s paws were dipped in the bowl on her knee, and a red thread, brought by a girl belonging to the house, on being also dipped in the water, was put round the child’s neck.”
The water used must be that in which the “hunter’s feet” have been dipped (uisge casan an t-sealgair), and the cat is the hunter most readily available. The muttered words are the charm, which gives the whole ceremony its efficacy, and the yawning commences when the child’s illness is being transferred to the person who performs the ceremony.
The Evil Eye is deadly to all animals to which the person having it takes a fancy. In the present day it is said of a man in Tiree, who is accused by common report of having the gift, that when he comes to buy a beast it is better to give it to him at his own price than keep it. If he does not get it, the beast is taken ill and perhaps dies soon after. This is said, but the maligned man never gets better bargains than his neighbours.
When a stranger having an evil eye meets a rider or person leading a horse, and praises the animal’s points, the effects of his looks are soon evident. Before he is out of sight the horse is suddenly taken ill and falls down. The rider should immediately return after the evil-eyed stranger, and boldly accuse him of having done the mischief. The more “bitterly and abusively” (gu searbh salach) he does so the better. On coming back he will find the horse all right. If on his guard at the first meeting, when the stranger praises the horse, he will praise it a great deal more. When the stranger says, “That is a good animal,” the prudent owner will say, “It is better than that,” and however high the stranger’s praises are, the owner’s should be higher. This will lessen, perhaps prevent, the power of the evil eye to do mischief.
In the prose part of a Gaelic poem published in M’Kenzie’s Beauties, Gilbride Macintyre, from Ruaig, in Tiree, is said to have killed eighty hens with one glance of his evil eye, and to have wrecked a big ship of five cross-trees, notwithstanding her cables and anchors. A man in Rocky Mound (Cnoc Creagach), in Coll, killed a mare and foal with it. It is said the wife of a former tenant of Heynish, in Tiree (and the story is localised in several other places), would not allow her husband to look at his own fold of cattle. As sure as he did so, one of his best cows was found dead next day. The fear of this calamity made her put a very pretty cow, to which she herself took a great fancy, in an out-of-the-way place, near which her husband had never been observed to go. On returning one day from a stroll in the hill, he asked who put the cow where he had seen it. The wife’s worst fears were realised. The cow was dead in a few days.
The credulous (of whom there is a large number everywhere) were assured that, when any beast belonging to them was praised, all evil consequences were averted by their saying:
There is a Gaelic saying that “Envy splits the rocks” (sgoiltidh farmad na creagan), and in proof of this the following story is told. An industrious, careful man sold more cheese than his neighbours, and was much envied when seen, as he frequently was, on his way to market with a cheese in a bag on his back. One day, instead of a cheese, he put a small mill-stone in the bag. His neighbours, filled with envy, saw him jogging along as usual to market, and stood in their doors looking after him and making remarks. On reaching the market and opening the bag he found the mill-stone broken in two, a certain proof of the power of envy and of the truth embodied in the proverb.
The charm for curing the Evil Eye, like many other similar mummeries, must be made on Thursday or Sunday. The rhyme used varies with different localities. The following, with slight variations on the part of different individuals, is the one used in Tiree. The words within brackets are omitted when the charm is for a sick beast:
The five last lines probably mean, that the fairies or elves, whom God has rendered invisible, are speaking among themselves over the sick person, and the succour of the twelve apostles and of Christ is more powerful than the injustice of man. Others for these lines substitute the following:
A woman in Islay worked wonderful cures with the following. It is a wretched specimen of superstition, but is given to show how ancient creeds accommodate themselves to modern modes of thought. The ancient charm, instead of being entirely abandoned, became a sort of prayer:
This was to be said thrice.
(Eòlas an t-sìochaidh.)
This charm also to be efficacious must be thrice repeated. The variations in the versions met with, have been almost entirely in the omission of lines in some that are found in others:
Part of the charm consisted of a handful of earth from a grey mound (làn an dùirn an ùir a cnoc glas) applied to the foot. The sufferer must go three times deiseal (southwardly) round the mound on Sunday. In the extreme west of Tiree there is a hillock called Cnocan an t-sìachaidh (the hillock of the sprain), but the practice of using it for cures of this kind has become obsolete.
(Eòlas Bruthaidh.)
Eòlas Galar Tholl (lit. perforating disease).
Otherwise:
(Eòlas na Caitheamh.)
This was to be said on a Thursday and on two Sundays. As in the case of other charms, some days of the year were more favourable than others, and the top of the ninth wave should be used in sprinkling the patient:
(’Air Son Iomairt Cléibh.)
(Eòlas an Déide.)
It is not difficult to persuade a man distracted with toothache to try any remedy in reason that offers any hope of relief. It would be curious if a charm were not forthcoming. The writer has recovered only a portion of the Gaelic version. The following English charm was obtained ten years ago in Tiree, and probably came originally from the Isle of Man. It was to be sewn up in the clothes and worn about the person, and was given to those who applied for it for a small consideration. This was to be on Sunday, and payment was not to be asked for. If that had to be done, the charm was useless. The copy is word for word:
“In the name of lord petter sat on a marble stone aweeping Christ came by and said what else you petter petter said o lord my god my dok toockage christ said o lord petter be whole and not thou only but all that carry these lines in my name shall never have the toock Christ cure the toockaig.”
In a small tract called Peacock’s Guide to the Isle of Man (p. 66), the following version is given as in use in that island:
The Gaelic is to the same effect:
These were even more numerous than those for the distempers of men. Cattle are nowadays better housed, fed, and attended to, and hence are not so liable to ill-understood ailments that gave persons of ‘skill’ employment.
In the case of any beast being seized with distemper, this short charm might prove of use:
A more obstinate case demanded the charm for the Evil Eye, water in which stones of virtue were dipped etc.
When a newly purchased animal is brought home, its return to its former home is prevented, and its allurement to its new haunts is secured by blowing into its ear, and saying:
When a cow loses its milk, as is sometimes the case, whatever be the cause (perhaps the eating of a noxious weed), it is necessary to procure the pearlwort and two other plants known to people of skill, to bring back the milk. The following words are to be said when pulling the plants:
The seun or sian, Scot. sain, was used for the protection of both man and beast from particular dangers, such as being taken away by an enemy, being drowned, or struck by sword, or arrow, or bullet in battle. It consisted of rhymes, or parti-coloured strings, or plants, and in many cases its nature remained a mystery. It was said over cows and sheep when leaving them for the night; it was put round the necks of infants; given by the fairy mistress (leannan sìth) to her earthly lover; sewn by the foster-mother (muime) in the clothes of a beloved foster-son (dalta) about to leave her, etc. After it was once given or said, the two, the giver and the recipient, must not see each other again. If they did the charm lost its power. Usually there was some unforeseen danger of the class which the charm was intended to provide against that proved fatal. Thus, it is said, a young woman gave a sian to her soldier lover, who was leaving for foreign wars, telling him the only thing he had to guard against was his own arms. He went scatheless through a protracted war, but after his return scratched his forehead with a pin which he carried in his clothes, and died from the effects.
(Sian na Caillich mu Bò.)
When a stone was tied to the cow’s tail, and these mystic words were uttered, the animal was safe to be found in the same spot in the morning. This was believed to be as much owing to the words as to the anchor astern.
(Sian na Caora mu’n chrò.)
(Sian roi’ bhàthadh ’s an Cogadh.)
A native of the Island of Coll, who served in the British army from the taking of Copenhagen, throughout the Peninsular and continental wars, and only died this year (1874), a most kind-hearted and powerfully built man, attributed his safe return from the wars in some measure to having learned this charm in his youth:
The following is taken from the Gaelic periodical, Cuairtear nam Beann, for January, 1842. It is said to have been got about the year 1800 from an old man in Glenforsa, in Mull.
A smith in Torosa, Mull, was said to have got a charm of this kind from his father. He afterwards enlisted, and was in thirty battles. On coming home without a wound, he said he had often wished he was dead, rather than be bruised as he was by bullets. They struck him, but could not pierce him because of the charm.
Red Hector of the Battles (Eachunn Ruadh nan Cath), a celebrated chief of the M’Leans of Dowart, had a sian, which made him invulnerable in the many conflicts, from which he derived his designation. It failed him at the battle of Inverkeithing, in 1652, when he fell with 1500 of his clan. Surrounded by overwhelming numbers, and sorely wounded, he maintained a hopeless struggle, his gallant clansmen defending him to the last, “each stepping where his comrade stood the instant that he fell,” and calling out, in an expression which has been since proverbial in his native island, “Another for Hector!” (Fear eile air son Eachuinn).
The charm, which his fairy mistress gave to Thinman (Caoilte), the fastest hero of the Fians, has been already referred to.
When washing new-born babes wise women made use of these words:
After being fulled, new cloth was folded and placed on a table. The women, who had been engaged in the fulling, then gathered round it and sang the following charm seven times. During the singing they kept time to the music by raising their hands simultaneously and beating the cloth with the tips of their fingers. After each repetition of the charm the cloth was turned over end:
Then, striking the cloth faster, the singers say:
It is said there is a bone in the herring’s head that resembles a deer’s foot. Some say the word should not be “deer’s shank” (Lurg an fhéidh), but “deer’s antlers” (Cuibhn’an fhéidh). The part of the song within brackets seems to belong to the music more than to the meaning. The final wish is that the cloth when turned, or made into a second suit, may prove as good as new, and not, like cloth found on dead bodies, a perquisite of the priest’s. In olden times the seventh yard (slat) of chequered cloth (Clò Breac) was given to the factor and priest, as well as the seventh lamb from the fold.
Of the same class was the charm to which this name was given. It consisted of a green string, which was kept in the mouth while the charm was muttered, and then secured to the charmed person’s right shoulder. The ceremony must be performed on Thursday or Sunday.
(Oradh nam Buadh.)
The knowledge of this rhyme is very widespread. It is ascribed by some to Duncan Ban M’Intyre, the greatest of the Gaelic lyrical poets, and is printed in some editions of his poems as his composition, but others with more probability ascribe it to Blind Allan, the Glengarry bard. Allan eked out a livelihood by the practice of charms of the kind.
When a person is pulled up at law for abusive language, let him when entering the court-house spit in his fist, grasp his staff firmly, and say the following words. There is then no danger of being found guilty. The charm was originally got from Big Allan of Woodend (Ailein Mòr cheannacoille), in Kingairloch, who had been a soldier at the time of the Irish Rebellion, and had himself learned it in his youth. The names of the saints show the charm to be very ancient.
The name “Manaman MacLeth” is probably a corruption of “Manannan MacLeirr,” the Manx magician, who is said to have covered that island with a mist, which was dispelled by St. Patrick. Ni-Mhanainnein (i.e. the daughter of Manannain) is mentioned in a Gaelic tale as having remarkably beautiful music in her house, and “the Dairy-maid, the daughter of Manannan” (Bhanachag ni Mhannainein) is mentioned in another tale as a midwife, whose residence was somewhere near the moon.
In addition to magic cures by means of rhymes, many were effected, and much security was obtained, by means of beads, stones, and plants. A collection of these formed a considerable part of the armoury of witches, black and white.
Of all the means of which superstition laid hold for the cure of disease in man or beast, the foremost place is to be assigned to the Serpent Stone (Clach Nathrach), also called the Serpent Bead or Glass (Glaine Nathair). It is an undoubted relique of Druidism, and as such worthy of particular attention.
Pliny (29 c. 3) tells us that the Emperor Claudius put to death a knight of the Vocontian Gauls for carrying a serpent-egg (ovum anguinum) about him while engaged in a lawsuit. He also gives a description of the manner in which the egg or bead is manufactured by the serpents. In summer innumerable serpents enwrap one another, and generate the egg from the slaver of their jaws and bodies. They then, according to the Druids, cast it up into the air by their hissings, when it must be caught in a garment lest it touch the ground. The person who is bold enough to intercept it must fly away on a horse, for the serpents follow till a river intercepts them. The test of a true egg is, that it swims against the stream, even if bound in gold (si contra aquas fluitet, vel auro vinctum). The Druids further say it must be got at a particular season of the moon. The one Pliny saw was about the size of a round apple. It procures victory in lawsuits, and entrance to kings.
The tales told in modern times of the Serpent Stone, its manufacture and wonderful properties, are of a similar class, and leave no doubt that in these beads and the use made of them we have the remains of an imposture, if not instituted, at least practised by the Druids.
The ordinary Glaine Nathair (Serpent Glass) is of smaller size than is indicated by Pliny. The one which the writer saw was about the size of a gun bullet, and about 1¼ in. long. There was a hole through from end to end, and depressions on its sides, as if it had once been soft, and had been taken up gently between the finger and thumb. It is of transparent glass, but glass unlike that of the present day. There are extremely brilliant and curious streaks of colour in it. It is now merely a family heir-loom, but in olden times was in great demand for dipping in water to be given to bewitched persons or beasts. The sloughed skin (cochull) of the serpent itself was used for the same purpose. Water in which it was dipped was given to sick beasts. The tale as to the manner in which it was originally got is the same as is told of other beads of the same kind. The serpents are assembled in a coiling mass, with their heads in the air hissing horribly, slavering, and out of their slaver making the serpent stone. The spittle, in course of becoming solid, was known as meall èochd. That the story was not implicitly believed is shown by the addition that, when the bead is finished, one of the serpents puts its tail through it. Thus the hole by which it is perforated is made.
In the case of the Bead which the writer saw, the person who came upon the serpents at their work is said to have waited till the reptiles slept. He then worked the bead out of their circle with a straw or twig of heather. As he took it up between his finger and thumb, and made off with it, he observed that the pressure of his fingers marked it, it being still soft, and this made him put a straw through it to carry it home. This story fairly accounts for the shape of the bead and the marks upon it. The marks look as if they were so made when the stone was soft. Another account says that the finder came on a rock above where the serpents were at work, and, rolling his plaid into a ball, threw it down the rock near them. Instantly the serpents made a dash at the plaid, and while they were reducing it to shreds he made off with the Adder Stone. By means of a sharp-pointed stick, prepared for the purpose, and thrust through the soft bead, he raised it to the top of the rock, and, taking it between his finger and thumb, ran home.
Similar legends of the Adder Stone were current in the Lowlands. Scott says the name is applied “to celts and other perforated stones.” In the Highlands the name is not applied to stones. In Wales and Ireland the Bead is known as “Druid’s Glass.” A more than historical interest attaches to it, from the means it gives of tracing, beyond the possibility of mistake, the use of amulets and superstitious charms to the times and teaching of the much-lauded Druids, and raises, if it does not throw light upon, questions as to the early intercourse of nations.
The manufacture of serpent beads is involved in obscurity. There is nothing known to create a probability that they are of Celtic workmanship. The Phœnicians from a very early date knew the art of glass-making, and their commerce extended far and wide, and as far as the shores of the British Isles, then the remotest part of the known world. It is, therefore, possible these beads came from Phœnician sources. They are, it is said, found on the coasts of the Baltic and Mediterranean, in England and France, as well as in Ireland and Scotland, and it is possible enough their diffusion was owing to traders from Phœnicia and her colonies in Gaul and at Massilia. Similarly, idols are exported, at the present day from England to India. Fully as much, however, can be urged in behalf of a supposition that the beads are of Egyptian origin, and were obtained by the Celtic priests from the ancient Egyptian enchanters. The Egyptians from the earliest times used glass extensively, and could cut, grind, and engrave it, inlay it with gold, imitate precious stones in it, and colour it with great brilliancy. A bead found at Thebes is ascribed to B.C. 1500, and relics of a similar class are not unfrequently found in the Egyptian catacombs. If they could be said to be of exactly the same manufacture with the Celtic beads, the question is nearly set at rest. Meyer gives it as his view that the first westward stream of Celtic immigration passed through Egypt, along the north coast of Africa, and entered Europe by the Straits of Gibraltar. Ancient Irish history, if there be any truth in its fables, points to a similar conclusion. The subject is one of which nothing certain is known, and its decision is of value in showing whether the Celtic priests got their aids to superstition from their Egyptian brethren.
Snails also are said to form themselves into a mass and manufacture a stone of great virtue as a charm (Clach shianaidh). It protects its lucky possessor against all danger. Its name is “a snail bead” (Cnaipein seilcheig), or “a snail stone” (Clach na seilcheig). Four or five snails are engaged in the manufacture of each stone. Water in which it is dipped is good for sore eyes and for mouths broken out with tetter.
The King Frog has in its head a stone of immense value. “The Frog Stone” (Clach nan gilleadha cràigein) is said by Pennant to be merely a kind of fossil tooth, known as bufonite. It has been made the best known of this class of physical charms, from Shakespeare’s comparison of adversity to the toad, which, though “ugly and venomous,” yet “wears a precious jewel in its head.”
The swamp at Achagaval in Morvern was tenanted by a King Frog or Toad, the reputation of which was widespread. It was called Seid, a word of which the usual meaning is “a truss of hay or straw.” One, who stayed in the neighbourhood of the fen, said, he heard, not once but scores of times, the cry of the animal from as great a distance as the top of a neighbouring hill, Beinn nam Bearrach, and he could compare it to nothing so much as the yelping of “a soft mastiff whelp” (bog chuilein tòdhlair). The part of the fen which the King Frog most frequented was called Lòn na Seid, and in winter, when it was frozen over, a tame otter was let down through a hole in the ice in the hope of driving the frog to the opening. Otters must come occasionally to the surface to breathe, and the one in question having come for that purpose, its owner, in his eagerness to secure the jewel, mistook it for the King Frog, and gave it a rap on the head that killed it on the spot.
In addition to jewels found in animals, superstition made use of stones of various forms, spherical and pointed, plain and ornamented, of unknown origin, but bearing evidence of having been reduced to form by human art. These were carefully preserved in families as heirlooms, and are found in tumuli, graves, and road-cuttings, dredged from rivers, and turned up by the plough. They are undoubted relics of a remote past, and have been referred by antiquaries to a prehistoric age and savages who lived before iron was invented. The ingenuity of those who advocate this view of their origin is sufficiently tested in finding a practical use for the stones as weapons of war or the chase, as employed in games of chance, or as articles of domestic use, corn-crushers, hatchets, or personal ornaments. No doubt many of them were originally intended for such purposes; but the uselessness of others and the absence of fitness for any known or conceivable purpose of utility, indicate a different origin. It is not easy, for instance, to assign any ordinary use to such a stone-ball as that pictured in Wilson’s Prehistoric Annals of Scotland, i., 195, and to many others of still more curious appearance and with more elaborate ornaments. The incised ornaments forbid the idea of their being of ordinary service, and the prevalence of witchcraft, with its armoury of curiously-shaped stones and mysterious natural productions, among all savage tribes, makes it highly probable they were the implements of the prehistoric conjurer’s craft, and were from the first associated with strange virtues. As a lethal weapon the first stone picked up from the ground was as serviceable. They have been associated with the popular superstitions of very modern times. It is not unlikely that from the beginning they were so associated.
The most common of these primitive relics was the Fairy Arrow or Elf-bolt (saighead shith, pron. saït hee), which was believed to be thrown by the Fairies at cattle and men. It was said in the Highlands the elves could not throw it themselves, but compelled some mortal, who was at that time being carried in their company, to do so. When friendly, he missed his aim, and so disappointed his instigators. A person struck instantaneously lost the power of his limbs, and was taken to the Fairy dwelling. Only his semblance remained. He appeared to die, or an old Elf was substituted for him, to animate the powerless frame and receive the kindness bestowed by mortals on what they thought was their afflicted friend. Similarly elf-struck cattle devoured all the food and gave all the trouble of healthy cattle, but yielded no return; they neither gave milk nor grew fat.
The Elf-bolt is a flint flake reduced with patient ingenuity to the form of an arrow-head, and is in length from one to six inches. Archæologists say these flints formed the arrow and the lance heads of a primitive stone race, but their unsuitableness for being firmly secured to a proper shaft alone makes this supposition not always likely. An arrow with a flint for a head must have been too weighty at one end, and the Allophylian (if there was such a person) must have been very destitute of ingenuity if he could not make a more serviceable arrow-head from bone splinters or hardened wood. When men believed in Fairies these flint heads made their appearance as readily as images do under a system of idolatry.
Whoever had one of these arrows in his possession was safe from Fairy attacks, and water in which it was dipped restored to health man or beast struck with sudden illness.
Similar virtues were ascribed to the Fairy Spade (Caibe sìth), a smooth, slippery, black stone (mìn sleamhuinn du), supposed to resemble a spade. It was also put in water to be given to sick people and cattle.
The Cruban Stone (Clach a Chrùbain) cured diseases in the joints. It is said by Pennant to have been that species of fossil-shell called gryphite. Its name is from crùban, a sitting, or squatting, or crouching attitude in man or beast, the result of a disease in the feet that makes them unable to stand. A stone of this kind in Breadalbane was lent only under a pledge of two cows (an geall càraid cruidh). If the stone was not returned the cows were to be forfeited.
A round stone, exactly resembling the one above referred to, as pictured by Wilson, with six regularly arranged circles carved upon it, was long in the possession of a family in Knapdale, and is now in Tiree. It was used for the relief of colic pains and other internal gripings, and was believed to cast a skin (tilg rusg) when put in the water to be used. It was called Clach a Ghreimich, the Gripe Stone. There was a companion stone of the same size for the cure of the Evil-Eye. Mary Macintyre, the noted Fort-William witch, a native of Barra, had a stone called Clach na Léig, the pebble of healing virtues, with a hole in it, through which she thrust her tongue previous to making divinations. It was of a blue colour, and by means of it Mary could give young women accounts of their sweethearts, secure for seamen and others who came to Fort-William with flesh and other commodities a sale for their goods, etc.
There is a stone in Caolas, Tiree, called Clach na stoirm, the Storm Stone, almost entirely buried in the ground. If taken out of the ground, cleaned, and set upright, it will cause a storm to arise.
The Ardvoirlich Stone (in Perthshire) was used for the cure of murrain in cattle. A person going for it must not speak, or sit, or enter a house, or be found outside a house after sunset. He must take up his quarters for the night before the sun sets.
A “Gospel” consisted of a verse of Scripture, or a hymn, or some good words, usually got from the priest, and sewn in the clothes to keep the wearer from weakness of mind, and as a protection from spite (air son inntinn lag ’s droch rùn). When going for it, a person must not speak to anyone on the way, and must take up his lodgings for the night before the sun goes down.
Besides all these magic cures, there were others practised by boys and resorted to by the superstitious, without much thought as to there being magic in them or not. The cure in many cases was supposed to be effected or the desired gift conferred by natural means.
These were cured by putting in a bag as many knots or joints of straw or grass (glùinean shop) as there were warts to be banished, and leaving them on the public road. The first person who lifted the bag was to have the warts in future. Another equally efficacious plan was to take a grain of barley (spilgein eòrna) for every wart and bury it in some retired spot, where it was never to be disturbed. Should both these simple cures fail, pig’s blood was applied to the warts and rubbed off with a clout. This cloth was made up into a parcel and left on the road. The warts were removed to the hands of the first person who opened it.
A stye on the eye (pron. sleònachan) was cured by putting one end of a stick in the fire, pointing the burning end towards the sore eye, and whirling it round rapidly in a circle, saying, “A stye one, a stye two, a stye three,” etc., down to “a stye nine,” and then adding, “take yourself off, stye.” The charm was also performed by repeating, while the stick was being whirled, “Go back, go back, go back, stye” (air ais, air ais, etc.). Others placed great faith in rubbing the eye with gold.
Boys troubled with eruptions on the mouth were infuriated by a rhyme: