exclaiming, "There, take that, thou witch!" He then put this question to her twice: "Art thou Mary Boland, the wife of Michael Cleary? Speak by the Lord!" She replied: "I am Mary Boland, the daughter of Pat Boland, by the Holy Ghost!" It now occurred to one of the neighbors, named Dunin, that if they should put her on the fire, which fairies are notoriously much afraid of, the indwelling spirit would speak the truth, and probably be compelled also to depart. This clever suggestion was at once acted upon. The sick woman was taken out of her bed and held over the flames, while in the midst of her fearful screams her tormentors kept shouting, "Come home, Bridget Boland, come home!" She was again put to bed, and Cleary, who had become greatly excited, continued to cry out, "In the name of God, art thou Bridget Cleary, my wife?" declaring that, if she did not give a satisfactory answer three times, he would burn her up. As she was too exhausted to heed this threat, he threw the petroleum lamp at her and she was soon all ablaze, and, in the words of an eyewitness, "burned like a torch." No voice of compassion responded to her shrieks, which only provoked the harsh command of her husband: "Be still! Troth, I'm not burning Bridget; in a minute, begorra, you'll see the witch going up the chimney." The charred body was put into a sack and thrown out of the window. There it was found and borne to the graveyard by the constables of the village, but no member of the family of the deceased attended her funeral. They were all scattered about on the neighboring hills, each armed with a sharp knife and awaiting the appearance of Bridget Cleary mounted on a white horse which the fairies had given her. There they watched day and night, firmly believing that if they could only succeed in cutting the reins of the bridle the spell would be broken and the unfortunate woman disenchanted. Instead of the magic steed, they were met by a body of policemen and taken to Dublin, where they are to be tried for murder.
In Ireland the laws against witchcraft were not abolished until 1821; and as the Catholic Church still prescribes formulas and performs rites for the exorcism and expulsion of evil spirits, it is no wonder that the delusion lingers in the minds of the people, and sometimes gives rise to horrible cruelty like that ignorantly inflicted upon Bridget Cleary.
About thirty years ago printed prayers addressed to "the true stature of Jesus," which had been supernaturally revealed to some ecstatic soul, were extensively sold in Bavaria as talismans to prevent and destroy diseases. But superstition, too, is not wholly free from the whims of fashion, and these prayers have now been superseded by another panacea called "Lourdes waffle," a thin
