ndication of the "puir deil," and the very
evident desire to prove that he was led astray by love, and that even the
higher spirit could not take away all his power. Here I recognise beyond
all question the witch, the fortune-teller and sorceress, who prefers
Cain to Abel, and sings invocations to the former, and to Diana as the
dark queen of the _Strege_, and always takes sides with the heretic and
sinner and magian and goblin. It is the last working of the true spirit
of ancient heathenism, for the fortune-tellers, and especially those of
the mountains, all come of families who have been regarded as enemies by
the Church during all the Middle Ages, and who are probably real and
direct descendants of Canidia and her contemporaries, for where this
thing is in a family it never dies out. I have a great many traditions
in which the hand of the heathen witch and the worship of "him who has
been wronged" and banished to darkness, is as evident as it is here.

* * * * *

"Which indeed seems to show," comments the learned Flaxius, "that if the
devil is never quite so black as he is painted, yet, on the other hand,
he is so far from being of a pure white--as the jolly George Sand boys,
such as Heine and Co., thought--that it is hard to make him out of any
lighter hue than mud and verdigris mixed. _In medio tutissimus ibis_.
'Tis also to be especially noted, that in this legend--as in Shelley's
poem--the Devil appears as a meddling wretch who is interested in small
things, and above all, as given to gossip:

"The Devil sat down in London town
Before earth's morning ray,
With a favourite imp he began to chat,
On religion, and scandal, and this and that,
Until the dawn of day."

SEEING THAT ALL WAS RIGHT
A LEGEND OF THE PORTA A SAN NICOLO

"God keep us from the devil's lackies,
Who are the aggravating jackies,
Who to the letter execute
An order and exactly do't,
Or else, with fancy free and bold,
Do twice as much as they are told,
And when reproved, cry bravely, 'Oh!
I _thought_ you'd like it so and so.'
From all such, wheresoe'er they be,
_Libera nos_, _Domine_!'

The Porta a San Nicolo in Florence is, among other legends, associated
with a jest played by the famous Barlacchia on a friend, the story of
which runs as follows:

"It is an old saying that _la porta di dietro e quella che ruba la casa_
(it is th