escort. The same custom exists in India. Breal, Hercule et
Cacus, p. 123.

But the wind-god is not always so terrible. Nothing can be
more transparent than the phraseology of the Homeric Hymn, in
which Hermes is described as acquiring the strength of a giant
while yet a babe in the cradle, as sallying out and stealing
the cattle (clouds) of Apollo, and driving them helter-skelter
in various directions, then as crawling through the keyhole,
and with a mocking laugh shrinking into his cradle. He is the
Master Thief, who can steal the burgomaster's horse from under
him and his wife's mantle from off her back, the prototype not
only of the crafty architect of Rhampsinitos, but even of the
ungrateful slave who robs Sancho of his mule in the Sierra
Morena. He furnishes in part the conceptions of Boots and
Reynard; he is the prototype of Paul Pry and peeping Tom of
Coventry; and in virtue of his ability to contract or expand
himself at pleasure, he is both the Devil in the Norse
Tale,[22] whom the lad persuades to enter a walnut, and the
Arabian Efreet, whom the fisherman releases from the bottle.

[22] The Devil, who is proverbially "active in a gale of
wind," is none other than Hermes.

The very interesting series of myths and popular superstitions
suggested by the storm-cloud and the lightning must be
reserved for a future occasion. When carefully examined, they
will richly illustrate the conclusion which is the result of
the present inquiry, that the marvellous tales and quaint
superstitions current in every Aryan household have a common