4^8 Collectanea.
Witches, the Berkshire people say, could go through keyholes and all manner of unlikely places. They would drag people in the night through prickly hedges, and in the morning they were covered with scratches. They were particularly fond of taking the form of hares. People would shoot at them with guns filled with peas, and then they did not come again.
When men possessed the powers of witches, people speak of them as being able to " lay spells." Old Mrs. CoUins's aunt, before mentioned, remembered a man named Cowdrey who lived at a certain farm and was able to " lay spells." A man went into Cowdrey's field one night to steal some turnips ; when he had filled his basket and wished to go out of the field, he could not, for there was water all round it. Wherever he tried to go there was water, so he had to stay there all night, and in the morning Cowdrey came and found him. Another man had stolen a "slab" or block of wood belonging to Cowdrey, and instead of taking it to his own cottage, as he intended, he found himself with his stolen property in Cowdrey's house.
Another man living in another farmhouse in the same village was also able to " lay spells." A carter lost a pony and went to ask this man where it was. He told him there was going to be a storm, and that he had better get home, and that when he got home he would find the pony, but that it would not be advisable for him to keep it. The carter remarked that it looked very un- like rain ; however, he set off homewards, and before he got there a terrific storm broke over him, and the pony came down in the rain just in front of him. He took it home, but was not able to keep it. The man who had worked these wonders said upon his death-bed " a great many things have been done by scholarship, but as for me I have had dealings with the Devil."
The following is a ghost-story that was told me. A man was sitting upon a stile in a certain lane lighting his pipe with a tinder box. A beautiful horse with a lady upon it came along. The horse seemed frightened at the flash of the tinder-box, so the man offered to lead it past. He laid his hand upon the bridle, but his hand went through the horse, which, however, followed him the whole way home.
The country of which I have been speaking is some distance from the White Horse, and that part of Berks which has been made so well known by Tom Hughes, and its character is quite
