than usual, I
winked upon you to hasten to your story, lest the terrors which you
were describing should make too much impression upon a young head, and
you kindly understood my sign, and said less upon the subject of your
fears, than I fancy you first intended._]

This foolish book of witch stories had no pictures in it, but I made
up for them out of my own fancy, and out of the great picture of the
raising up of Samuel in Stackhouse. I was not old enough to understand
the difference there was between these silly improbable tales which
imputed such powers to poor old women, who are the most helpless
things in the creation, and the narrative in the Bible, which does not
say, that the witch or pretended witch, raised up the dead body of
Samuel by her own power, but as it clearly appears, he was permitted
by the divine will to appear, to confound the presumption of Saul; and
that the witch herself was really as much frightened and confounded
at the miracle as Saul himself, not expecting a real appearance; but
probably having prepared some juggling, slight-of-hand tricks and
sham appearance, to deceive the eyes of Saul: whereas she, nor any
one living, had ever the power to raise the dead to life, but only
He who made them from the first. These reasons I might have read in
Stackhouse itself, if I had been old enough, and have read them in
that very book since I was older, but at that time I looked at little
beyond the picture.

These stories of witches so terrified me, that my sleeps were broken,
and in my dreams I always had a fancy of a witch being in the room
with me. I know now that it was only nervousness; but though I can
laugh at it now as well as you, ladies, if you knew what I suffered,
you would be thankful that you have had sensible people about you to
instruct you and teach you better. I was let grow up wild like an ill
weed, and thrived accordingly. One night that I had been terrified in
my sleep with my imaginations, I got out of bed, and crept softly to
the adjoining room. My room was next to where my aunt usually sat when
she was alone. Into her room I crept for relief from my fears. The
old lady was not yet retired to rest, but was sitting with her eyes
half open, half closed; her spectacles tottering upon her nose; her
head nodding over her prayer-book; her lips mumbling the words as she
read them, or half read them, in her dozing posture; her grotesque
appearance; her old-fashioned dress, resembling w