uff, proud and dignified, sat like a king before the
kitchen fire, while at his feet lay the body of the huge rat he had
killed. It was the rat that had eaten the stockings, had gnawed the door,
and had carried off the soap, afterward found in the walls. Old Buff was
the hero of the house.

This strange experience of the Puddington household was told throughout
the village. Some were satisfied that witchery was no longer to be
feared, but others still held their belief. In course of time, however,
the witch acts believed of Jane Walford were forgotten.

THE WOLVES OF PORTSMOUTH.

John Hinkson led his saddled horse from the stable one September morning
in 1662. Things had gone hard with John, for taxes were due, and bills
were demanding immediate payment. As he needed money at once, he was now
starting for Exeter to borrow, if possible, from his brother Peter, until
his grist-mill should bring him the fall returns.

As he mounted the horse, his wife opened the door.

"John," she asked, "if you go to Peter's home, do not fail to ask Miranda
for a bottle of her pine syrup. I ought not to be without it, for already
little Anthony has a heavy cold. When shall you be back?"

"I must return on Wednesday," John replied, "for there is to be a
town-meeting that afternoon." Then, adjusting his gun, he called,
"Good-bye," and was off.

When Wednesday came, and the townsmen had gathered at their meeting, John
Hinkson was not there. Thomas Keats, whose home was on the outskirts of
Portsmouth, reported that Hinkson had passed his house on the way to
Exeter a day or two before, but had not yet returned. Richard Webster
remarked that he had just spoken with Mrs. Hinkson at her gate. She was
looking anxiously for John. Their boy was seriously ill, and she needed
the medicine John would bring. She was equally worried lest in his delay
night should overtake him, when there was grave danger of attack by
wolves. Another townsman emphatically declared:

"It seems as if measures should be taken immediately to overcome this
pest of wolves. There is no safety in the woods after dark, and even our
door-yards are in danger from straggling beasts. Since Portsmouth has
grown to be a town of a hundred inhabitants, though we are widely
scattered, we ought to be able to make some headway against them."

The meeting was then called to order, and that very question was placed
under formal discussion.

Meanwhile, John Hinkson had reache