as they necessarily must, the storied value of Sir Walter's fascinating
fictions, they have at least this merit,--that every narrative and
anecdote in these pages is a veritable fact.

I should not wonder, however, if a couple of stories or so, which I am
about to relate, were looked upon as purely fictitious by the
philosophical reader. I do not pretend that the facts stated were within
my own experience, only that I positively heard them related by persons
of the strictest veracity, who were actual observers or actors in the
transactions of which they professed to give an account. People ridicule,
nowadays, when in company, the superstitions of earlier times; though it
is not unlikely that the nerves of some of the boldest contemners of
marvellous manifestations, once universally accepted as true, might still
tremble, if alone and under circumstances calculated to awaken
apprehension and to puzzle the understanding. Notwithstanding the
accepted theory, that the very pretence of witchcraft, for example, was
exploded a hundred and fifty years ago, and the idea of an apparition, in
spite of Dr. Johnson's belief, and that of others as wise and stout as
he, would be scouted as preposterous in cultivated circles, I believe
that there are many places in New England where undoubting faith in both
superstitions still prevails, and I know that within a third part of the
period above mentioned, very many creditable persons in a certain place
in New England accepted the strangest occurrences of both kinds, upon the
supposed evidence of their sober senses.

We will imagine, then, that we are sitting in a circle around the
fire-place in Uncle Richard's spacious kitchen, on the evening of
Christmas-day, the room lighted only by the blazing logs upon the hearth,
the glow of which glanced along the walls and drew brilliant reflections
from the brightly-scoured dishes and other utensils of metal, which
stood ranged upon the shelves. We were quite a party, and had made merry,
according to our fashion, during the day. Uncle Richard was himself the
most conspicuous of the group. I have said that he was well-to-do, and he
was certainly a gentleman in spirit and bearing. The black dress which he
assumed on Sundays, and other occasions of public importance, set off his
figure well, and his white hair gathered into a pig-tail behind and tied
up with a ribbon by some one of his daughters, of a morning, gave him a
venerable appearance, at leas