The little fluttering insect-like diseases are naturally spoken of for the most part in the plural, but in the _Philoctetes_ of Sophocles[435] the festering sore of the hero is called ‘an ancient Ker’; here again the usage is primitive rather than poetical. Viewing the Keres ‘as little inherent physical pests,’ we are not surprised to learn from Theognis[436] that ‘For hapless man wine doth two Keres hold— Limb-slacking Thirst, Drunkenness overbold.’ Nor is it man alone who is beset by these evil sprites. In that storehouse of ancient superstition, the Orphic _Lithica_[437], we hear of Keres who attack the fields. Against them the best remedy is the Lychnis stone, which was also good to keep off a hailstorm. ‘Lychnis, from pelting hail be thou our shield, Keep off the Keres who attack each field.’ And Theophrastus[438] tells us that each locality has its own Keres dangerous to plants, some coming from the ground, some from the air, some from both. Fire also, it would seem, might be infested by Keres. A commentator on Philo says that it is important that no profane fire, i.e. such as is in ordinary use, should touch an altar because it may be contaminated by myriads of Keres[439]. Instructive too is the statement of Stesichorus[440], who according to tradition ‘called the Keres by the name Telchines.’ Eustathius in quoting the statement of Stesichorus adds as explanatory of Keres τὰς σκοτώσεις: the word σκοτώσεις is late and probably a gloss, it means darkening, killing, eclipse physical and spiritual. Leaving the gloss aside, the association of Keres with Telchines is of capital interest and takes us straight back into the world of ancient magic. The Telchines were the typical magicians of antiquity, and Strabo[441] tells us that one of their magic arts was to ‘besprinkle animals and plants with the water of Styx and sulphur mixed with it, with a view to destroy them.’