as follows, an old Scotch rhyme I had often repeated when a child at
school--

'Eenerty, feenerty, fickerty, feg,
Ell, dell, domun's egg;
Irky, birky, story, rock,
An, tan, toose, Jock;
Black fish! white troot!
"Gibbie Gaw, ye're oot."'

It had the desired effect. No sooner was my charm uttered, than, after
a few encouraging words to the men, telling them that there was now no
fear, that my charm was powerful enough to lay all the spirits in the
country, and that I would take all the responsibility, they set to work
with a will, and had the whole field dug up by the evening.

I have seen many such cases. A blight attacks the melon or cucumber
beds; a fierce wind rises during the night, and shakes half the mangoes
off the trees; the youngest child is attacked with teething
convulsions; the plough-bullock is accidentally lamed, or the favourite
cow refuses to give milk. In every case it is some 'Dyne,' or witch,
that has been at work with her damnable spells and charms. I remember a
case in which a poor little child had bad convulsions. The 'Ojah,' or
witch-finder, in this case a fat, greasy, oleaginous knave, was sent
for. Full of importance and blowing like a porpoise, he came and caused
the child to be brought to him, under a tree near the village. I was
passing at the time, and stopped out of curiosity. He spread a tattered
cloth in front of him, and muttered some unintelligible gibberish,
unceasingly making strange passes with his arms. He put down a number
of articles on his cloth--which was villainously tattered and