amorously inclined, often thrashed the witches with their own broomsticks. The more practical pursuits of the evening included the opening of graves, to despoil dead bodies of finger- and toe-joints, and certain portions of the winding-sheet, with which to prepare a powder that had strange uses. . . . But the less said of that, the better. Here, also, the devil taught his disciples how to make and christen statues of wax, so that by roasting these effigies the persons whose names they bore would be wasted away by sickness."
"I see," says Kennaston, intently regarding his fingernails: "they must have been highly enjoyable social outings, all around."
"They must have been worse than family reunions," put in Mrs. Kennaston, and affected to shudder.
"Indeed, there are certain points of resemblance," I conceded, "in the general atmosphere of jealous hostility and the ruthless digging-up of what were better left buried."
Then Kennaston asked carelessly, "But how could such absurd superstitions ever get any hold on people, do you suppose?"
