ll know, is dreadful enough. A woman who is a
Mare (the final e is pronounced as a) is known by the hair growing
together on her eyebrows. It is a very old superstition. It occurs in
Snorro's 'Heimskringla,' where King Vauland complains of a Mare having
ridden him in his sleep. There are several stories based on the
superstition. A Bondekarl--that is, a farm servant--was ridden every
night by a Mare, although he had stopped up every hole to prevent her;
but at last he discovered that she came through a hole in an oak post,
which he stopped with a wooden pin, as soon as he knew she was in the
room. As the day dawned, she assumed her human form, having no power
otherwise. The man married her, and they lived together very happily.
One day, the man asked his wife if she knew how she came into the
house, and showed her the little wooden pin, which yet stood in the
oak post. His wife peeped through the hole, and as she stood and
looked, she suddenly became so small that she could go through the
hole. She disappeared and never returned. There is also a story of a
certain Queen of Denmark, who was very fond of horses, but she liked
one horse far beyond the others. The groom observed that this horse
was always tired in the morning, with the appearance of its having
been ridden all night. He at length suspected that it was ridden by a
Mare. He, therefore, one night took a bucket of water and threw it
over the horse, when, lo! the queen sat on the horse's back."

"The superstition is evidently an ancient one," said Hardy. "There is
no doubt that people had the nightmare very badly in old times, from
their habits of life and sudden and violent changes taking place in
their circumstances."

"There is a method of catching a Mare," said the Pastor; "and that is
by putting a sieve over her when she is acting a nightmare. It is said
she can then be caught, as she cannot come out until she has counted
all the holes in the sieve."

"There are difficulties enough attending that," said Hardy. "But
surely this must exhaust all the subjects you call Folketro?"

"By no means," said the Pastor. "We have a very dangerous coast on the
west of Jutland, and I have heard sailors say of our sandy coast that
they prefer rocks to sands to be wrecked on. There has consequently
arisen a superstition as to omens, and these are called Strandvarsler,
or omens from the sea-shore or strand. Varsel is an omen, Varsler is
the plural of the word. In old time