Читать книгу Ye Lyttle Salem Maide. A Story of Witchcraft онлайн

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“The dear child,” smiled the goodwife, “she has gone to gather strawberries for her father’s breakfast. She repents, I perceive, her unchastened heart, and seeks to pleasure me by an o’er amount o’ promptness.”

She turned to fling back the covers of the bed that they might air properly. This, however, had already been done. On the window-ledge a little yellow bird sat preening its feathers. It looked at her with its bright, black eyes and continued its dainty toilet undisturbed. Now, this was strange, for as every one knew, the wild canary was a shy bird and flew away at the least approach. The goodwife grew pale, for she feared she was in the presence of a witch, knowing that witches often took upon themselves the forms of yellow birds, that they might by such an innocent and harmless seeming, accomplish much evil among unsuspecting persons. She tiptoed out of the room, and returned with her Bible as a protection against any spell the witch might cast upon her.

“Ye wicked one,” she cried, and her voice shook, “ye who have given yourself over from God to the Devil, get ye gone from this godly house!”