The wife of a priest at Chalandri in Attica related to Ross[327] a story in point. ‘I had a daughter,’ she said, ‘a little girl between twelve and thirteen years old, who showed a very strange disposition. Though we all treated her kindly, her mood was always melancholy, and whenever she got the chance she ran off from the village up the wooded spurs of the mountain (Brilessos). There she would roam about alone all day long, from early morning till late evening; often she would take off some of her clothes and wear but one light garment, so as to be less hindered in running and jumping. We dared not stop her, for we saw quite well that the Nereids had allured her, but we were much distressed. It was in vain that my husband took her time after time to the church and read prayers over her. The Panagia (the Virgin) was powerless to help. After the child had been thus afflicted a considerable while, she fell into yet deeper despondency, and at last died--a short time ago. When we buried her, the neighbours said, “Do not wonder at her death; the Nereids wanted her; it is but two days since we saw her dancing with them.”’ Such was the view taken by a Greek priest and his wife concerning the cause of their daughter’s death about two generations ago; and at the present day the traveller may hear of similar events in recent experience. An important point to notice is that the child’s death was thought to be due, not to any malevolence on the part of the Nereids, but to their desire to have her for their own, a desire more happily gratified in cases of which I have several times heard where the child has not died but has simply disappeared. Thus in Arcadia I was once assured that a small girl had been carried off by Nereids in a whirlwind, and had been found again some weeks after on a lonely mountain side some five or six hours distant from her home in a condition which showed that she had been well fed and well cared for in the interval. But certainly the snatching away of children by the Nereids, whether this mean death or only disappearance, is still a well-accredited fact in the minds of many of the common-folk. They still remain too simple and too closely wedded to the beliefs of their forefathers to need the old exhortation[328], ‘Trust ye the fables of yore: ’tis not Death, but the Nymphs of the river Seeing your daughter so sweet stole her to be their delight.’ They believe still that the Nereids have befriended their children, even while they weep for their own loss.