of such arrow-heads, the specimens which are found
in America or Africa from those which are unearthed
in Europe. Even in the products of more advanced
industry, we see early pottery, for example, so closely
alike everywhere that, in the British Museum, Mexican
vases have, ere now, been mixed up on the same shelf
with archaic vessels from Greece. In the same
way, if a superstition or a riddle were offered to
a student of folklore, he would have much difficulty
in guessing its
provenance, and naming the race
from which it was brought. Suppose you tell a
folklorist that, in a certain country, when anyone
sneezes, people say ‘Good luck to you,’
the student cannot say a priori what country you refer
to, what race you have in your thoughts. It
may be Florida, as Florida was when first discovered;
it may be Zululand, or West Africa, or ancient Rome,
or Homeric Greece, or Palestine. In all these,
and many other regions, the sneeze was welcomed as
an auspicious omen. The little superstition is
as widely distributed as the flint arrow-heads.
Just as the object and use of the arrow-heads became
intelligible when we found similar weapons in actual
use among savages, so the salutation to the sneezer
becomes intelligible when we learn that the savage
has a good reason for it. He thinks the sneeze
expels an evil spirit. Proverbs, again, and riddles
are as universally scattered, and the Wolufs puzzle
over the same devinettes as the Scotch schoolboy or
the Breton peasant. Thus, for instance, the
Wolufs of Senegal ask each other, ’What flies
for ever, and rests never?’—Answer,
‘The Wind.’ ’Who are the comrades
that always fight, and never hurt each other?’—’The
Teeth.’ In France, as we read in the ‘Recueil
de Calembours,’ the people ask, ’What runs
faster than a horse, crosses water, and is not wet?’—Answer,
‘The Sun.’ The Samoans put the riddle,
’A man who stands between two ravenous fishes?’—Answer,
‘The tongue between the teeth.’ Again,
’There are twenty brothers, each with a hat
on his head?’—Answer, ’Fingers
and toes, with nails for hats.’ This is
like the French ‘un pere a douze fils?’—’l’an.’
A comparison of M. Rolland’s ‘Devinettes’
with the Woluf conundrums of Boilat, the Samoan examples
in Turner’s’ Samoa,’ and the Scotch
enigmas collected by Chambers, will show the identity
of peasant and savage humour.
A few examples, less generally known, may be given
to prove that the beliefs of folklore are not peculiar
to any one race or stock of men. The first case
is remarkable: it occurs in Mexico and Ceylon—nor
are we aware that it is found elsewhere. In
Macmillan’s Magazine {15} is published a paper
by Mrs. Edwards, called ‘The Mystery of the Pezazi.’
The events described in this narrative occurred on
August 28, 1876, in a bungalow some thirty miles from
Badiella. The narrator occupied a new house
on an estate called Allagalla. Her native servants
soon asserted that the place was haunted by a Pezazi.
The English visitors saw and heard nothing extraordinary
till a certain night: an abridged account of
what happened then may be given in the words of Mrs.
Edwards:—