"When she was on the shore the woman said: 'Turn round three times to the right and look every time at the boat.' She did so, and every time she looked she saw the boat grow smaller till it was like an egg. Then the woman sang:-- "'That is the shell you threw to me, Even a witch can grateful be.' "Saying this she vanished, cat, broom, shell, and all. "Now my story is fairly done, I beg you to tell a better one." As regards these boats which grow large or small at will we find them in the Norse ship Skidbladnir, which certain dwarfs made and gave to Frey. It is so large that all the gods and their army can embark in it. But when not in use it may be so contracted that one may hava i pungi sino--put it in his purse or pocket. The Algonkin god Glooskap has not only the counterpart of Skidbladnir, but the hammer of Thor and his belt of strength. He has also the two attendant birds which bring him news, and the two wolves which mean Day and Night. Another legend given by Dr. Krauss, relative to witches and egg-shells is as follows:-- "By the Klek lived a rich tavern-keeper and his wife. He was thin and lean--hager und mager--while she was as fat as a well-fed pig. "One day there came a gypsy woman by. She began to tell his fortune by his hand. And as she studied it seriously she became herself serious, and then said to him, 'Listen, you good-natured dolt (moré)! Do you know why you are so slim and your wife so stout?' 'Not I.' 'My good friend (Latcho pral), your wife is a witch. Every Friday when there is a new moon (mladi petak) she rides you up along the Klek to the devil's dance' (Uraze kolo). 'How can that be?' 'Simply enough. As soon as you fall asleep, she slips a magic halter over your head. Then you become a horse, and she rides you over the hills and far away over mountains and woods, cities and seas, to the witches' gathering. "'Little you know where you have been, Little you think of what you have seen, "'For when you awake it is all forgotten, but the ride is hard for you, and you are wasting away, and dying. Take great care of yourself on the next Friday when there is a new moon!' "So the gypsy went her way, and he thought it over. On the next Friday when the moon was new he went to bed early, but only pretended to sleep. Then his wife came silently as a cat to the bed-side with the magic halter in her hand. As quick as lightning he jumped up, snatched it from her, and threw it over her head. Then she became, in a second, a mare. He mounted her, and away she flew through the air--over hills and dales like the wind, till they came to the witches' meeting.