, 1888-09-02
A WITCH STORY.

'~
was nameless. 1t was known, however,
throughout the surrounding country as
the Nagot hamlet. Its dwellings were
almost mere huts, small and meanly
constructed, and the inhabitants lived in
the most abject poverty. They barely
eked out a miserable support by cutting
wood from the forests surrounding them
and selling it TO purchasers in the city.
Those of our readers who have ever
Travelled through the south of France
have seen scattered about the traces of
an almost lost race, separate and distinct
from the mass Of the inhabitants of the
country. In the middle ages this COM
munity was quite large, but they grad
ually dicd out under the injustice and
oppression with which they were treated
by their neighbors. Forced to remain
by themselves, and cut off from all the
social advantages of other people, fire.
quent intermarriages were not slow in
producing a dwarfed and really inferior
race. Some of these people managed to
make their way to this city, but it seems
hat the feelings engendered against
them on the other side followed them
here.
In the eyes of the people, both here
and in France, the Nagots were inidels,
heathens, PRISONERS, worshipers of Satan,
and it was a ~favorite suspicion with them
that these poor wretches lived chiefly on
human blood, and that they were wehr-
wolves-that is, possessed of power to
assume at pleasure the form of a wolf,
and to pursue the destructive habits of
that terrible monster.
The hamlet, however, had a friend in
one Eben Kershaw, a venerable and
worthy old gentleman, who was famil-
iarly called "Uncle Eben.'' This kind
old man pitied the outcasts, and his heart
warmed to them as he daily saw the in
justice which vas heaped upon them.
One day "Uncle Eben'' abstractedly
wandered beyond the limits of the ham
let, when suddenly he was startled from
his reverie by a loud shout. Looking up
he saw a young girl flying in terror be-
fore a crowd of people who were pursu-
ing her with boots and curses.
The girl saw him, and, rushing toward
him, fell to his feet and chung to his
coat.
Save me, Uncle Ebenl' she cried,
imploringly.
The good man waved the crowd back
sternly and demanded what they wanted
Of the girl.
"She is a dcvil-a wehrwolf," said one
of the crowd, a stout, burly fellow.
I'VE want her life before she fattens on
more of our blood"
"Uncle Eben" gazed at the crowd
scorntully for a moment, and then,
drawing the girl closer { o him, said
calmly: This is no wehrwolf. She is
ono sof Gods children. Let him who
dares touch her at his peril" He then
led her safely to the hamlet.
"NNhat have you done, Marie?" asked
Uncle Eben," as they went along.
Nothing, uncle. They found me a
the edge of the forest and said l was 8
wehrwolf, and threatened to kill me-"
What were you doing in the forest,
my child7'
The girl blushed and hung her head.
mo doubt you were there to meet a
lover. Is it sou
The girl was still silent; but the blush
ing face answered him and he contin-
ued:
us he of your own race, Marie2''
II is not, uncle. He belongs there
and she pointed to the village.
My good girl" said the old man,
kindly, Il don't think this is right. You
must be careful OF the people in the vii
lage. They don't consider you their
equal, and | do not believe they will act
honorable with you. Let them alone, OF
you will nave cause to repent"
But Alfred Tompkins is brave and
honorable, uncle" Marie exclaimed in
dignantly. HE loves me, though / am
a poor, downtrodden Nagot. And why
should he not love met 1 have beauty,
and am as wc<thy of him as any of the
women in the village who sneer at me as
they pass me by"
The girl spoke rapidly and with pas
sion, and her face seemed to the good old
man more beautiful than anything be had
ever seen.
Marie was the daughter of an ole
widow living in a small cottage. He,
mother had been bed ridden for more
than u year, and now awaited her daugh-
ter's coming with impotence. She knew
that Marie had gone to the forest, and,
knowing the hatred which was felt for
the Nagots, feared that some harm had
befallen her. AS the young girl entered
ut last, she asked her sharply what had
detained her so long; and Marie told her
Of her adventure with the townspeople.
Course themr' shrieked the old dame.
''They murdered your father, child, and
now they would take you from me. oh,
that 1 were a wolf! l would tear them,
l warrant me. Girl, girl, if ever you
love n of them, as l did once when I
was young, you will repent it bitterly.
You had better die first"
Marie shuddered. Twice in an hour she
had received this warning, and she could
not shake off the feeling which it threw
over her. Still sho could not give up her
love for Alfred, eve though he did be-
long to the townspeople. He was a young
man, a few years older than herself, and
had first met her in the forest and had
saved her. She had returned his passion
from the first, and all of their meetings
had been held in the woods.