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

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Even the cream was bewitched. The butter would not come until she had heated a horseshoe red-hot and hung it over the churn. Also, three times a mouse ran across the floor.

Deliverance hurried through her morning chores, anxious to reach the town’s highway before school called, that she might see the judges go riding by to court, then being held in Salem. A celebrated trial of witches was going on. In the front yard she found Goodwife Higgins weeding the flower-bed.

“Be a good child, Deliverance,” said the dame, looking up with troubled face, for she was much perplexed over the unseemly conduct of the little maid.

“Might ye be pleased to kiss me before I go?” asked Deliverance, putting up her cheek.

The goodwife barely touched her lips to the soft cheek, having a secret fear lest the little maid were in communion with evil spirits. Her heart was so full of grief that her eyes filled with tears, and she could scarce see whether she were pulling up weeds or flowers.

As soon as Deliverance had made the turn of the road and was beyond the goodwife’s vision, she began to run in her anxiety to reach the town’s highway and see the reverend judges go riding by. The Dame School lay over half-way to town, facing the road, but she planned to make a cut through the forest back of the building, that she might not be observed by any scholars going early to school. To her disappointment, these happy plans were set at naught by hearing the conch-shell blown to call the children in. In her haste she had failed to consult the hour-glass before leaving home. She was so far away as to be late even as it was, and she did not dare be any later. She stamped her foot with vexation. The school door was closed when she reached it, out of breath, cross, and flurried. She raised the knocker and rapped. A prim little girl opened the door. Prayers had already been said and Dame Grundle had called the first class in knitting.