"Was smothered by the squall. Heaven ne'er heard his cry, nor did The ocean heed his _caul_!" Advocates also purchased them, that they might be endued with eloquence, the price paid having often been from twenty to thirty guineas. They seem to have had other magical properties, as Grose informs us that any one "possessed of a caul may know the state of health of the person who was born with it. If alive and well, it is firm and crisp; if dead or sick, relaxed and flaccid." In France the luck supposed to belong to a caul is proverbial, and _être né coiffé_ is an expression signifying that a person is extremely fortunate. Apart from the ordinary luck supposed to attach to the "caul," it may preserve the child from a terrible danger to which, according to the old idea, it is ever exposed--namely, that of being secretly carried off and exchanged by some envious witch or fairy for its own ill-favoured offspring. This superstition was once very common in many countries, and was even believed by Martin Luther, if we are to rely on the following extract from his "Table Book:"--"Changelings Satan lays in the place of the genuine children, that people may be tormented with them. He often carries off young maidens into the water." This most reprehensible of the practices attributed to the fairies is constantly spoken of by our old writers, and is several times mentioned by Shakespeare. In the speech of Puck, in _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ (Act ii., sc. 1), that jovial sprite says of Titania's lovely boy--the cause of quarrel between the King and Queen of Elfland:-- "She never had so sweet a changeling."