Our sweet Chaucer telleth
of a mirror in the which he that looked did see all his past life; that
magical mirror is no fable, for in the memory of love, old things do
return and show themselves as features do in the glass, with a perfect
and most beguiling likeness.
Last night, Deacon Dole's Indian--One-eyed Tom, a surly fellow--broke
into his master's shop, where he made himself drunk with rum, and,
coming to the house, did greatly fright the womenfolk by his threatening
words and gestures. Now, the Deacon coming home late from the church-
meeting, and seeing him in this way, wherreted him smartly with his
cane, whereupon he ran off, and came up the road howling and yelling
like an evil spirit. Uncle Rawson sent his Irish man-servant to see
what caused the ado; but he straightway came running back, screaming
"Murther! murther!" at the top of his voice. So uncle himself went to
the gate, and presently called for a light, which Rebecca and I came
with, inasmuch as the Irishman and Effie dared not go out.
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