Edmund Dulac,
Edmund Dulac's Fairy-Book: Fairy Tales of the Allied Nations
“ So the next night as the dark began to fall they all trooped out into the marshes, each with a stone in his mouth and a twig of the [Pg 13] witch-hazel in his hands. Never a word they spoke, but kept straight on; and, I'm telling you, there was not one among them but had the creeps and the starts. They could see nothing around them but bogs and pools and snags; but strange sighing whispers brushed past their ears, and cold wet hands sought theirs and tugged at the hazel twigs. ”
