Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000, 1882-09-21
THE DAYS OF WITCHCRAFT.
The author of "Dorothea," in Our Cont
mani =

Dent.
November had come. Chilly and gray,
it held the prophecy of a cruel winter
The sky was heavy with snow, the wind
scurried up the Pennsylvania mountains
and came fttulE, fercely down the
ravine, making old Ann Halstead's mar
row, dangerous path still more difficult.
The wind, however, was not in the old
voman's thoughts, but her dim eyes
wandered full of fear from one side to
Che other. On her left hand, the rocks
arose, steep and heavily wooded; on the
other, far below the path worn on the
shelving cliff, ran the scanty creek over
its bed Of great stones. But all this was
familiar to her, and never before had
she trembled coming down the path,
even when, as now, loaded with faggots.
Everywhere around her seemed to be
voices, and strange, uncertain figures
iurked behind the trees. Once she
thought she saw q fantastic, uncannv
crew hurrying in dance among the
hemlocks on the opposite side of the
creek, but she turned her head away.
81 will not see them," she cried, Il will
not have my eyes opened to their wick
ednessw
All the days appointed to Ann Hal
stead had been bitter and full oftrouble,
but never before had she lost the belief
that the Lord, who never fails the faith
full, would yet make happier life for
her. In her loneliness, she had trusted
and she had submitted. No one around
the mountain was better known and bet
ter liked than old Nurse Halstead, but
no one knew how often her fire was fed
by thin and cracking twiSs, which,
fercely blazing, gave brief heat, and no
one guessed how often she went to bed
hungry and sad. When she was young
she worked hard and had enough for
her hands shook, and she was too old
to care for the sick. The winter was full
ofterror, and the Lord had forsaken
her! She needed no witch general" to
tell her what the temptations of the past
weeks had meant. All her life she had
heard stories of the snares of the evil
one, and when she was younger she had
even talked to Mother Hogan, who was
afterward burned at the stake. She re-
membered how this old woman looked.
Her hair was white, and her face was
old and sorrowful. She was tall and
walked with a staff: 1t was DAYS since
Ann had looked at herself in the looking
glass. She wondered if the neighbors
saw how she had changed, and she won
dered whether they, too, had seen Moth
~er Hogan! But no one now saw Ann
often, for she Stunned them all. She no
longer took her Sunday night tea with
Parson Johns widow, nor tarried any
where for gossip. She gathered her
wood, she bought meal at the store, but
most of the TIM she sat at home with
her cat and the tame crow she was nurs-
ing for little Abner Gibbons, and read
her Bible and prayed for deliverance.
Nov, coming down the ravine, Satan
absolutely met her. His servants sur
rounded her. They whispered that it
was cold and that she would suffer when
the snow fell. They tainted her with
her little bundle of faggots-so heavy to
carry. They whispered of fire, of food,
and all to be had if she would but ask.
What had the Lord done for her? She
was forsaken; she almost begged her
bread. Sooa she must beg or starve. II
shall give in, o Lord she cried, coming
from the shadow of the trees and falling
knows, as thou dost, how easy the devil
will find it. 1t won't do, 0 Lord to let
him tempt me longl Thou rememberest
he was too strong for Abraham and ia
cob and David, and how can | withstand
him2 The people look at me, and soon
they will curse me. My friends have
become my enemies, and now, 0 Lord,
I have no money and no work, and the
snow storm is at hand, and don't you let
him try mech, don't you let him try
mew
She arose with pain and trouble from
her knees; the tears rolled down her
wit lered cheeks. Somehow the Lord
must deliver her, yet she dreaded what
might happen if for one moment he for
got her. Behind the tree stood the old
crony, Widow Johns and her child,
amazed at this sudden movement, and
shocked by the low sobs and means
which escaped the cd woman. But Ann
slow, sad steps she went home. That
night, the storekeeper, old Benny
Clark, came and looked in the window
at her. A fire burned on her hearth !;
her pot was boiling; her cat beside her;
the crow shook its feathers and flew up
on her chair; it saw the man, but Ann
was reading aloud
"FOr 10, they lie in wait for my soul;
! The mighty are gathered against me;
Not for my transsgression,
Nor for my sin, 0 Lord.
| They run and prepare themselves
! NIthoutmy fault;
| Awake to help me.
The SOW tears dropped on the page,
but old Ben could not see her face. He
did see, howe yer, how barren and cheer
Less the room looked. The swapping
twigs told the story of an empty wood
house, and there was little cheer in the
thin steam from the iron pot. The snow
was falling heavily, and Ben went softly
away. In little while his footprints
were covered, the old woman's fire was
out, and she lay in her bed thinking of
the morning, of the snow, and of the lit
He food in the house. She sighed heav-
lily, and then closing her eyes slept SO
soundly and softly that if any one had
seen her they would have thought her
dead.
The newt day was one of APATHY, if not
peace, in the little house. Ann divided
her meal into two portions; one she ate
labou noonS the other she saved. She
might starve, but she felt she must keep
something in the house. The ground
Twas covered with snow, yet not deeply.
land if Ann had money she could
have made her. way to the store;
but she had none, and SO she
!sat still and waited. In former days she
Iwould have gone to the village. There
were stockings to be knit, clothes mend
Jed, some little job always waiting pair
.of sllillfull hands; but just now Ann
threaded her old friends. She was not
sure she even dare 60 to church. Wo-
men had been denounced in meeting,
and just as the punishment might be,
she was too weak and tired to bear it.