The sun. [volume] (Morris, Stevens County, Minn.) 1882-1895, 1888-11-29
A Witch's Thanksgiving.

For this Thanksgiving Dayl
A Witch's Thanksgiving.
Story Of the Olden Days in New England.
In the year 1892 the little settle
ments about Massachusetts bay
were less in the humor of Thanksg iv
ing celebration than ever before since
the early days of their trials. AS the
one feast OF their busy and earnest
year drew near. few hearts could say
that a feeling of rejoicing animated
them. What the coming days held
in store for each one was the all alb
sorbing thought. Hardly a month
had passed since eight of the colony
folk had met an ignominious death
on the gallows. Some of these, as
well as others before, this, had ap-
parently been good and kind neigh
bors, quiet and cody men and wom-
en-. Even one of the ministers whom
his congregation respected in spite
of his inclinati on to disagree in points
OF doctrine with the other wise and
godly preachers, had suffered this
shameful fate. Several, punished as
the worst criminals, had spoken and
prayed like holy men and women, but
the Rev. Cotton Mather, who knew
all about witches and witchcraft, and
had led many to confess their wrong
doings, warned the people that it
was the devil speaking through these
servants of his. So long as they
would not confess their "nefandous"
crime, their master would stand by
them and enable them to appear like
angels of light. All this had produc-
ed a gloomy depression, from which
none had spirit to rally. Who's should
next be accused by the afflicted, was
the harassing question which came
home to each one.
During a month, quietness had
been to some extent restored, for the
afflicted suffered less violently, and
the spectres of neighbors who came
to inflict the devils will upon these
unfOrtunates were now yelled that
their names and faces could not be
known.
The judges and ministers seemed
to be undergoing reaction after their
jealous efforts which had led to the
hanging Of so many. The jails were
still full of accused waiting their
trial, but for time were left unmolest-
ed. People began to breathe more
freely, and ohope that God, through
the applications and energy OF his
faithful servants had purged the land
Of the vile infestation.
"Truly, has it been a dreary time"
said Dame Carny to herself as she
moved busilv about her pleasant
kitchen, hanging the long strips of
pumpkins and the strings of sliced
apples over the lines stretched from
beam to beam. "But God has been
good to us, in that he has hindered
Satan from troubling this house.
hold" She shivered as she spoke.
Gwen now am I frightened to men,
ton the evil ones name lest he look.
about to do us HARM"
Dame Bishop will say you are a
witch, mother, if you talk to your
SELF" said her four-year-old daughter,
Deliverance, who, stretched out on
the braided husk mat before the wide
fireplace, noticed, as she played with
her black kitten, that her mothers
lips moved in prayer.
Dame Carny looked at her little
daughter with surprise.
s'Say not SO, sweet; Goodwife
Bishop would not speak such dire
speech of her neighbors.
s'Yes, she would, mother" said
Deliverance, earnestly. "She says
evil of you. Abigail Bishop told me
to-day"
sIt is not seemly for me to heed
The words of a child. PLAY with
your kittens and hearken not to the
concerns of your elders" said Dame
Carny, with that strong inclination
to repression inculcated by her
Puritan training. She went on with
her work, preparing the midday
meal; but her daughters words made
her uneasy. True, the evilseemed to
be dying out, but who could tell; and
many as harmless and seemingly as
innocent as she had been accused Of
exercising evident witchcrafts upon
their neighbors and carried to jail.
Her uneasiness continued, until,
the meal ready some space of time
before her husband's return from the
fields, she could no longer restrain
her curiosity, but, sitting down on
the wooden settle in the chimney
corner, she drew her child to her lap
and, stroking her long curls, ques-
toned her.
s. When didst play With Abigail
Bishop, sweet?'
"This morning, mother. But I 4
don't like her. She's rough and she
pulls my curls and laughs at them. .
May, then, butwell she may, !" and
the mother thought Of the contrast
between her own childs prettiness
and Abigail Bishop coafse Features /
and gtubby locks. But, alackl that