LITMIR.BIZ

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ever so important, but what the world gets to goin’ on without ‘em, pretty much as it did with ‘em, though there’s some little flurry at fust. Wal, the last thing that was in anybody’s mind was, that they ever should hear from Lommedieu agin. But there ain’t nothin’ but what has its time o’ turnin’ up; and it seems his turn was to come.

      “Wal, ye see, ’twas the 19th o’ March, when Cap’n Eb Sawin started with a team for Boston. That day, there come on about the biggest snow-storm that there’d been in them parts sence the oldest man could remember.‘Twas this’ere fine, siftin’ snow, that drives in your face like needles, with a wind to cut your nose off: it made teamin’ pretty tedious work. Cap’n Eb was about the toughest man in them parts. He’d spent days in the woods a-loggin’, and he’d been up to the deestrict o’ Maine a-lumberin’, and was about up to any sort o’ thing a man gen’ally could be up to; but these’ere March winds sometimes does set on a fellow so, that neither natur’ nor grace can stan’ ‘em. The cap’n used to say, he could stan’ any wind that blew one way ‘t time for five minutes; but come to winds that blew all four p’ints at the same minit, – why, they flustered him.

      “Wal, that was the sort o’ weather it was all day: and by sundown Cap’n Eb he got clean bewildered, so that he lost his road; and, when night came on, he didn’t know nothin’ where he was. Ye see the country was all under drift, and the air so thick with snow, that he couldn’t see a foot afore him; and the fact was, he got off the Boston road without knowin’ it, and came out at a pair o’ bars nigh upon Sherburn, where old Cack Sparrock’s mill is.

      “Your gran’ther used to know old Cack, boys. He was a drefful drinkin’ old crittur, that lived there all alone in the woods by himself a-tendin’ saw and grist mill. He wa’n’t allers jest what he was then. Time was that Cack was a pretty consid’ably likely young man, and his wife was a very respectable woman, – Deacon Amos Petengall’s dater from Sherburn.

      “But ye see, the year arter his wife died, Cack he gin up goin’ to meetin’ Sundays, and, all the tithing-men and selectmen could do, they couldn’t get him out to meetin’; and, when a man neglects means o’ grace and sanctuary privileges, there ain’t no sayin’ what he ‘ll do next. Why, boys, jist think on’t! – an immortal crittur lyin’ round loose all day Sunday, and not puttin’ on so much as a clean shirt, when all ‘spectable folks has on their best close, and is to meetin’ worshippin’ the Lord! What can you spect to come of it, when he lies idlin’ round in his old week-day close, fishing, or some sich, but what the Devil should be arter him at last, as he was arter old Cack?”

      Here Sam winked impressively to my grandfather in the opposite corner, to call his attention to the moral which he was interweaving with his narrative.

      “Wal, ye see, Cap’n Eb he told me, that when he come to them bars and looked up, and saw the dark a-comin’ down, and the storm a-thickenin’ up, he felt that things was gettin’ pretty consid’able serious. There was a dark piece o’ woods on ahead of him inside the bars; and he knew, come to get in there, the light would give out clean. So he jest thought he’d take the hoss out o’ the team, and go ahead a little, and see where he was. So he driv his oxen up ag’in the fence, and took out the hoss, and got on him, and pushed along through the woods, not rightly knowin’ where he was goin’.

      “Wal, afore long he see a light through the trees; and, sure enough, he come out to Cack Sparrock’s old mill.

      “It was a pretty consid’able gloomy sort of a place, that are old mill was. There was a great fall of water that come rushin’ down the rocks, and fell in a deep pool; and it sounded sort o’ wild and lonesome: but Cap’n Eb he knocked on the door with his whip-handle, and got in.

      “There, to be sure, sot old Cack beside a great blazin’ fire, with his rum-jug at his elbow. He was a drefful fellow to drink, Cack was! For all that, there was some good in him, for he was pleasant-spoken and ‘bliging; and he made the cap’n welcome.

      “‘Ye see, Cack,’ said Cap’n Eb, ‘I’m off my road, and got snowed up down by your bars,’ says he.

      “‘Want ter know!’ says Cack. ‘Calculate you ‘ll jest have to camp down here till mornin’,’ says he.

      “Wal, so old Cack he got out his tin lantern, and went with Cap’n Eb back to the bars to help him fetch along his critturs. He told him he could put ‘em under the mill-shed. So they got the critturs up to the shed, and got the cart under; and by that time the storm was awful.

      “But Cack he made a great roarin’ fire, ‘cause, ye see, Cack allers had slab-wood a plenty from his mill; and a roarin’ fire is jest so much company. It sort o’ keeps a fellow’s spirits up, a good fire does. So Cack he sot on his old teakettle, and made a swingeing lot o’ toddy; and he and Cap’n Eb were havin’ a tol’able comfortable time there. Cack was a pretty good hand to tell stories; and Cap’n Eb warn’t no way backward in that line, and kep’ up his end pretty well: and pretty soon they was a-roarin’ and haw-hawin’ inside about as loud as the storm outside; when all of a sudden, ‘bout midnight, there come a loud rap on the door.

      “‘Lordy massy! what’s that?’ says Cack. Folks is rather startled allers to be checked up sudden when they are a-carryin’ on and laughin’; and it was such an awful blowy night, it was a little scary to have a rap on the door.

      “Wal, they waited a minit, and didn’t hear nothin’ but the wind a-screechin’ round the chimbley; and old Cack was jest goin’ on with his story, when the rap come ag’in, harder’n ever, as if it’d shook the door open.

      “‘Wal,’ says old Cack, ‘if ‘tis the Devil, we’d jest as good’s open, and have it out with him to onst,’ says he; and so he got up and opened the door, and, sure enough, there was old Ketury there. Expect you’ve heard your grandma tell about old Ketury. She used to come to meetin’s sometimes, and her husband was one o’ the prayin’ Indians; but Ketury was one of the rael wild sort, and you couldn’t no more convert her than you could convert a wild-cat or a painter [panther]. Lordy massy! Ketury used to come to meetin’, and sit there on them Indian benches; and when the second bell was a-tollin’, and when Parson Lothrop and his wife was comin’ up the broad aisle, and everybody in the house ris’ up and stood, Ketury would sit there, and look at ‘em out o’ the corner o’ her eyes; and folks used to say she rattled them necklaces o’ rattlesnakes’ tails and wild-cat teeth, and sich like heathen trumpery, and looked for all the world as if the spirit of the old Sarpent himself was in her. I’ve seen her sit and look at Lady Lothrop out o’ the corner o’ her eyes; and her old brown baggy neck would kind o’ twist and work; and her eyes they looked so, that ‘twas enough to scare a body. For all the world, she looked jest as if she was a-workin’ up to spring at her. Lady Lothrop was jest as kind to Ketury as she always was to every poor crittur. She’d bow and smile as gracious to her when meetin’ was over, and she come down the aisle, passin’ out o, meetin’; but Ketury never took no notice. Ye see, Ketury’s father was one o’ them great powwows down to Martha’s Vineyard; and people used to say she was set apart, when she was a child, to the sarvice o’ the Devil: any way, she never could be made nothin’ of in a Christian way. She come down to Parson Lothrop’s study once or twice to be catechised; but he couldn’t get a word out o’ her, and she kind o’ seemed to sit scornful while he was a-talkin’. Folks said, if it was in old times, Ketury wouldn’t have been allowed to go on so; but Parson Lothrop’s so sort o’ mild, he let her take pretty much her own way. Everybody thought that Ketury was a witch: at least, she knew consid’able more’n she ought to know, and so they was kind o’ ‘fraid on her. Cap’n Eb says he never see a fellow seem scareder than Cack did when he see Ketury a-standin’ there.

      “Why, ye see, boys, she was as withered and wrinkled and brown as an old frosted punkin-vine; and her little snaky eyes sparkled and snapped, and it made yer head kind o’ dizzy to look at ‘em; and folks used to say that anybody that Ketury got mad at was sure to get the worst of it fust or last. And so, no matter what day or hour Ketury had a mind to rap at anybody’s door, folks gen ‘lly thought it was best to let her in; but then, they never thought her coming was for any good, for she was

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