tor_. It is so true to life
and apposite to our subject that I will quote it:--

In a close lane, as I pursu'd my journey,
I spy'd a wrinkled hag, with age grown double,
Picking dry sticks, and mumbling to herself.
Her eyes with scalding-rheum were gall'd, and red,
Cold palsy shook her head, her hands seemed wither'd,
And on her crooked shoulders had she wrapt
The tatter'd remnant of an old striped hanging,
Which served to keep her carcass from the cold;
So there was nothing of a piece about her.
Her lower weeds were all o'er coarsely patched,
With different colour'd rags, black, red, white, yellow.
And seem'd to speak variety of wretchedness.

A picture such as this is enough to create sympathy and charity in a
selfish heart, but in those dark days, when faith in witchcraft
prevailed, such a poor old decrepit woman inspired awe, and was shunned
as a malicious evil-doer by all her neighbours.

_Llanddona Witches_.

There is a tradition in the parish of Llanddona, Anglesey, that these
witches, with their husbands, had been expelled from their native
country, wherever that was, for practising witchcraft. They were sent
adrift, it is said, in a boat, without rudder or oars, and left in this
state to the mercy of the wind and the wave. When they were first
discovered approaching the Anglesey shore, the Welsh tried to drive them
back into the sea, and even after they had landed they were confined to
the beach. The strangers, dead almost from thirst and hunger, commanded
a spring of pure water to burst forth on the sands. This well remains to
our days. This miracle decided their fate. The strangers were allowed,
consequently, to land, but as they still practised their evil arts the
parish became associated with their name, and hence the _Witches of
Llanddona_ was a term generally applied to the female portion of that
parish, though in reality it belonged to one family only within its
boundaries.

The men lived by smuggling and the women by begging and cursing. It was
impossible to overcome these daring smugglers, for in their neckerchief
was a fly, which, the moment the knot of their cravats was undone, flew
right at the eye of their opponents and blinded them, but before this
last remedy was resorted to the men fought like lions, and only when
their strength failed them did they release their familiar spirit, the
fly, to strike with blindness the defenders