Old Mr. Saggarton confirms the story of the fall of the angels and their presence about us, but goes deeper into theology.  ‘The soul,’ he says, ’was the breath of God, breathed into Adam, and it is the possession of God ever since.  And I could never have believed there was so much power in the shadow of a soul, till I saw them one night hurling.  They tempt us sometimes in dreams—­may God forgive me for saying He would allow power to any to tempt to evil.  And they would destroy the world but for the hope they have of being saved.  Every Monday morning they think the day of judgment may be coming, and that they will see heaven.

’Half the world is with them.  And when you see a blast of wind, and it comes sudden and carries the dust with it, you should say, “God bless them,” and throw something after them.  For how do you know but one of our own may be in it?

’There never was a funeral they were not at, walking after the other people.  And you can see them if you know the way—­that is, to take a green rush and to twist it into a ring, and to look through it.  But if you do, you’ll never have a stim of sight in the eye again.’

HERB-HEALING

     September 28th, 1899.

     ’HONOURABLE LADY GREGORY,

’I, Bridget Ruane, wish to inform you that there is in the Oratory in London one of the Fathers, a Saint.  I do not know his name; but there was a young woman of the name of Meara; she got two falls and could get no cure.  She went to London and found this holy man; and he sent her back to Gort, here to me, and I cured her.  If your honourable Ladyship could make him out, it would be a wonderful thing, and a great happiness to many a weary heart, and the great God would have it in store for you and your son.  May you enjoy many happy days together is the prayer of your humble servant,

     ‘BRIDGET RUANE.’

This letter was brought to me one morning; and I went down to see the writer, a respectable-looking old woman, dressed in the red petticoat and blue cloak of the country-people.  She repeated what she had said in her note, and added:  ’Now if you could find out the name of that Saint through the press, he’d tell me his remedies; and between us, all the world would be cured.  For I can’t do all cures, though there are a great many I can do.  I cured Michael Miscail when the doctor couldn’t do it, and a woman in Gort that was paralyzed, and her two sons that were stretched.  For I can bring back the dead with some of the herbs our Lord was brought back with, the Garblus and the Slanlus.  But there are some things I can’t do.  I can’t help anyone that has got a stroke from the Queen or the Fool of the Forth.