Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1871-07-07
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Many years ago, when almost every per-
son in New England was believer in that
nonsensical bubble, witchcraft-wheno old
women, if they CHANGED to be ill-favored,
were sure of ducking in some conven-
lent horse-pond, some serious scenes were
enacted, and some that very much savored
of the ludicrous.
In the old town of Woodstock, a town at
that period famous for witches, there lived
sturdy old farmer by the name of Abijah
Lyon. He was called Deacon Lyon, for he
was n deacon Of the Presbyterian church.
The minister was Rev. Mr.. Styles; and as
Mr.. Styles is destined to take prominent
part in my story, may as well describe
him before proceed any further. He was
little dried-up, weazen-faced old gentle
man of seventy, who carried about the
enormous weight of seventy-fiv pounds.
1t was said that in his younger days he
weighed one hundred and twenty pounds
Mr.. Styles was a witch hunter, and ter
ror TO all the fraternity who dealt in that
business. He had often been called out of
his bed, after the dead hour Of midnight,
to lay the devil and up to the time of my
story had always been successful. He
wore great gown or cloak on his nightly
excursions, and when thus clad he looked
formidable
We are now to 20 back to Deacon Lyon.
He was sturdy old farmer, who stood six
and a half feet in his boots, and owned the
best farm in the town. The deacon had
family of six Stalwart boys and several
blooming daughters. The day before
Thanksgiving came round, chat old time
honored festival of New England, and the
great holiday in that region, when every
farmer expected all his rel itions TO dine
with him, down to the fortieth cousin,)
Deacon Lyon said to his boys, Work with
will, get the garden stuff into the cellar,
and we will all go as soon as it is done TO
your grandlather's, and tomorrow, after
dinner, we will come home, and you may
h're party in the parlor, and invite all
the young folks in the place."
The boys worked right smart, and long
before night the cellar was well filled
with garden vegetables, and the family on
their way to see the Deacons father, who
lived about four miles of. But in their
hurry they forgot to shut the outside cellar
door, called the bulkhead or hatchway.
Now the Deacon had big old black ram
that had nearly bushel of horns on his
head, and he went round the premises
wherever he had mind to. He was cross,
and ii any one made motion like a chal-
lenge, he would butt them over. He
found the open door and walked in with
out knocking, and RECALLED himself on the
good things stored there. A neighbor pass
ing by shut the door, and shut in the old
sheep. | suppose all know that black
sleeps eyes in the dark look like balls of
fire, and magnify to twice the ordinary
size.
The Deacon and his family arrived safe
home before night, and the old parlor long
before dark was all fitted for the coming
party. At an early hour the young folks
assembled. The kitchen door was left
partly open, in order that the Deacon's
wife could peep in now and then, and see
that all the plays were conducted with pro-
priety. The fun grew fast and furious till
about eight o'clock, when the Deacon told
his son Abijah, his Oldest and namesake,
10 go down cellar and get some apples and
cider. The young lad started ON his mis-
sion, but came back in great haste, every
hair on his head standing erect.
what IL the matter?" asked the Dea-
con.
"Oh, father, the devil is in the cellar. Oh,
such eyes and horns T.
give me the pitcher" said the old Dea-
con; "you always were great coward"
The old Deacon was brave. He started
down stairs, but not to the bottom did he
get before he was on the road back making
hasty strides for the old kitchen.
1T is true, my young friends, the devil
has at last came to make Deacon Lyon q
visit. Abijah, go after MIR. styles as fast as
you can run.
The young man obeyed. Mr.. Styles was
up, and soon ready to go to the Deacon's
and that he might appear formidable, he
put on the great cloak that the ladies had
given their beloved minister. When Mr.
STYLES arrived at the house of the Deacon
the first thing proposed was season o
prayer. Very proper was that, for the de
vii is afraid of praying man, so l have al
ways been taught When the time of devo
ton was through, the little priest, with hi
prayer book under his arm, started for tn,
cellar. Close behind him marched thu
Deacon and his sturdy sons, while the rea
was brought up by the weaker and less re
solute part of the party.
On descending the stairs, fearful sigh
met their view; an awful pair of blood-ret
eyes glared upon the priest and his follow
ers, and from the tremendous size of hi
lo..,. Ia could mt haua haan A vnnnu 10