In view of the latter inference, or perhaps even apart from it, there is no need to delay long over a derivation propounded by a Greek writer, Oeconomos, whose theory, that ‘callicantzaros’ is a corruption of the Latin ‘caligatus’ or perhaps of ‘calcatura,’ suggests a vision of a monster in hob-nailed boots which does more credit to its author’s imagination than to his knowledge of philology. A suggestion which deserves at any rate more serious consideration is that of Bernhard Schmidt[575] who holds that the word is of Turkish origin and passed first into Albanian and thence into Greek--reversing, that is, the steps indicated in the above table. But to this there are several objections, each weighty in itself, and cumulatively overwhelming. First, if the Turkish word _karakondjolos_ be the source from which the multitude of Greek forms, including in that case λυκοκάντζαρος[576] are derived, it ought to be shown how the Turkish word itself came to mean anything like ‘were-wolf[577].’ It is compounded, says Schmidt, of _kara_, ‘black,’ and _kondjolos_ which is connected with _koundjul_, a word which means a ‘slave of the lowest kind[578].’ But before that derivation can be accepted, it should be shown what link in thought may exist between a slave even of the lowest and blackest variety and a were-wolf, and also how the supposed Turkish compound came to have the Greek termination -ος. Secondly, the theory that the Greeks borrowed the word, and presumably also the notion which it expressed, from the Turks contravenes historical probability. For when did the supposed borrowing take place? Evidently not before the Ottoman influence had made itself thoroughly felt in Eastern Europe not only in war but in peace; for only those peoples who are living side by side in friendly, or at the least pacific, relations, are in a way to exchange views on the subject of were-wolves or any other superstitions; and in the case of the Greeks and the Turks such intercourse would certainly have been retarded by religious as well as racial animosity. Presumably then, even if the transference of the word from the Turkish to the Greek language had been direct and not, as Schmidt somewhat unnecessarily supposes, through the medium of Albanian, two or three generations must have elapsed after the Ottoman occupation of Chios in 1566[579], and the seventeenth century must have well begun, before the Greeks of that island even began to adopt the new word and the new superstition involved in it. Yet the form of the word familiar to Leo Allatius since the beginning of that century, when he lived as a boy in Chios, was not _karakondjolos_ or anything like it, but _callicantzaros_; while the belief that children born in the octave of Christmas became Callicantzari was of such antiquity in Chios that a custom founded upon it had already come, as I have shown, to be misinterpreted. Indeed, as the same writer tells us, the Callicantzari and their