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  THE JACK-O'-LANTERN WITCH

  The grim iron doors of the prison clanged shut and the turnkey fastenedthem. Hearing the sound, Desire touched the homespun sleeve of thelittle boy with whom she was walking home from market down the narrowstreet of the musty old town of Salem.

  "Did you hear that sound of the locking of the doors, Jonathan? It meansthat they've caught and imprisoned another witch."

  The boy, a quaint little figure in his long trousers, short jacket, andruffled shirt looked, wide-eyed, at the little girl. Quite as strangelydressed a child as Jonathan was small Desire, the only daughter of ElderBaxter who was high in authority in old Salem in those far-away days.Although not quite twelve summers and winters of the New England of astern long-ago had painted Desire's plump cheeks the pink of a rose andburned the shining gold of her hair, her gray frock with its short waistand long skirt nearly trailed the gray cobble stones of the street. Hersoft brown hair was braided close to her head and pulled back tightly infront from her white brow and tucked out of sight beneath her stiff cap.A white kerchief was folded closely about her primly held shoulders andover her frock she wore a long, dark cape for the fall day was chill.

  "'DO YOU KNOW WHO THE WITCH IS, DESIRE?' HE ASKED"]

  Jonathan set down the rush basket of food supplies that he was carryingfor Desire, and he touched the iron paling that shut in the prison.

  "Do you know who the witch is, Desire?" he asked, his voice low withawe.

  "Not I," the little maid answered, "but they do say that she has beenbrewing her spells for six months' time before the elders caught her. Iheard my father and mother talking about it only this morning. They saidthat before the day was over the witch that was the cause of all ourrecent troubles in Salem would be caught and safely imprisoned."

  "What troubles?" Jonathan asked.

  "Have you not heard, Jonathan?" Desire lowered her voice and looked upand down the street to see that no one was listening to her.

  "Abigail Williams was ill of the whooping cough and she had three fitswhich, as every one knows, is a sign that a witch had cast a spell overher. And Mercy Talcott's teakettle boiled over and nearly scaldedMercy's mother. On the way for some ointment at the doctor's to put onher mother's hand, Mercy saw the witch herself flying over the tops ofthe trees on Gallows Hill and," Desire's voice was a whisper now, "shewas riding on a broomstick."

  "How did Mercy know that it was a witch, and how could she be riding ona broomstick?" asked the practical Jonathan.

  Desire tossed her head. "I can't explain that to you, Jonathan. It wastoward evening and Mercy says that she saw a long, dark form in thetrees and she heard the dry leaves rustle."

  "Crows!" said Jonathan.

  "For shame, Jonathan," said Desire. "Do you not know that the eyes ofMercy Talcott are keen for seeing witches. She is to be at the trialto-morrow, and identify the evil creature." Desire repeated the words ofher elders in those far-away Colonial days of ignorance andsuperstition. "When shall we rid ourselves of this pest of witchcraft inSalem?" she said.

  "Well," Jonathan said, swinging the basket upon his shoulder and leadingthe way along the street again, "There'll probably be one less witchto-morrow for she won't have a chance to escape if that tale-bearingMercy Talcott is at the trial. Let us go on by the side street and seeif Jack is safe at Granny Hewitt's, Desire."

  The two children hastened their steps and passed the scattering littlebrown houses of old Salem. Their quaintly gabled roofs made them looklike dolls' cottages. The windows with their tiny diamond-shaped paneswere neatly curtained with white. At one house, a little larger than theothers and having no garden, they drew their breath.

  "The Witches' House," said Desire.

  It was here that so many of these unfortunate creatures of the dark daysof Salem had been kept in confinement before they met their punishmentin prison, on the ducking stool, or on Gallows Hill. A little fartheralong they passed a great white meetinghouse where a gilded weathercockpointed bravely to the sky and high, white pillars stood at either sideof the doorway.

  "The witch will be tried here in the morning," Jonathan said, and thetwo children walked a little faster toward a pleasanter stopping place,Governor Endicott's big white house, set in the midst of his fairEnglish garden.

  Even now, when the wind blew cold from the water front and rustled thecornstalks and rattled the red pods of the rose hips, the Governor'sgarden was a pleasant place for a child to see. Bright little marigolds,defying the frost, lifted their orange blossoms along the path. Greatbeds of scarlet dahlias and purple asters made a mass of color. The latesun marked for itself a long, golden shaft across the sundial, and atthe back of the house could be seen a patch of winter squashes andpumpkins mellowing in a sunny spot.

  "Was not the Governor kind to give us the pumpkin?" said Jonathan.

  "And wasn't Granny kind to show us how to make it into so strange ahobgoblin of a creature as is our Jack?" added Desire. "She said thatalmost no other granny in old Salem was old enough to remember aboutcarving a pumpkin into a face as they did long ago in England. She toldme that we must keep it a secret until All Hallow E'en, and then takethe pumpkin with a tallow drip shining inside him, lighting his funnyface, down through the street to show the other children."

  "I lighted it last night," Jonathan confessed. "I went to Granny's housewith a cheese ball that was a gift from my mother to Granny."

  "How did the pumpkin look?" asked Desire eagerly.

  "Fearsome!" said Jonathan. "We put it in the window and I went outsidein the dark to look at it. It had the appearance of a grinning monster,"the boy laughed at his memory of the Jack-o'-Lantern.

  "Here we are at Granny's. Let us go in a moment," Desire said as the twostopped before a tumble-down cottage at the end of a tiny lane. GrannyHewitt lived alone there, a little wrinkled crone with a face like abrown walnut and eyes that shone like two stars. But her mouth, oh, thatwas the best part of Granny; all the children said that it made themthink of their own dear mother's when she smiled. How could a smile belovelier than that?

  Having no kin of her own, Granny Hewitt loved the boys and girls whopassed her cottage every day on their way to and from school. She mademolasses cookies and vinegar taffy for them. She put balm on theirscratches, and covered their primers and spellers with pieces of brightcalico. No wonder Desire and Jonathan wanted to stop a moment at GrannyHewitt's house. They went up the white gravel path with its neat borderof clam shells. Desire lifted the big brass knocker on the door, lettingit drop with a clang.

  "GRANNY HEWITT LOVED THE BOYS AND GIRLS"]

  There was no sound inside.

  "She has gone to market," Jonathan said.

  "Well, good-bye, Jonathan," Desire said, taking her basket from theboy's hands. "I probably shall not see you to-morrow. It may be that myfather will let me sit in our pew in the meeting-house during thewitch's trial."

  Jonathan's eyes almost popped out of his head in surprise. "Could I go,too?" he asked.

  "I'll see if I can get you in," Desire promised as the two friendsparted.

  The morning of the witch's trial was as bright and peaceful as the fallsun lighting field and dingy streets and roofs could make it. Byhalf-after seven, although the trial was not to begin until ten, thegreen common that surrounded the Second Meeting-house was a moving blackand gray mass of stern men in their dark capes, buckled shoes, and tallhats, and gray-gowned women.

  Inside the meeting-house every pew was filled. The platform was linedwith the black-gowned elders, and the Governor himself, a dignifiedfigure in his flowing cloak and powdered wig, occupied the pulpit.Desire sat, prim and quiet beside her mother, her little round head notmuch above the high back of the pew. On the other side sat Jonathanwhose urgent request to come had been granted.

  It was rumored that the witch who was about to be tried was of somerepute in the practice of magic, and that she was to be made an examplefor any followers whom she might have.

  Jonathan nudged Desire's elbow
. "Where is she?" he asked.

  "_Ssh_," the little girl put a warning finger to her lips. "They'llbring her out in a minute." As she finished her whispered warning, herfather, Elder Baxter, rose and began to speak.

  "We are met together to pass judgment upon a woman of Salem town who haswrought her magic arts to the undoing of its citizens. She has cast herspell over a child and thrown it into dire sickness. She has bewitchedthe kitchen of our neighbor, Elder Talcott. A child of twelve years andwell versed in the art of discovering witchcraft saw this same witchafter she had practised her arts. Mercy Talcott will please come to theplatform. Bring in the witch."

  Desire and Jonathan craned their necks to see better as the black row ofthe elders parted to let in a bent, trembling little old lady. Twojailers guarded her, one on each side. She still wore her tidy whiteapron with its knitting pocket, and her white cap was tied neatly underher chin. She was shaking from head to foot with her fright. Her headwas bent low so that no one could see her face. She held her Bibleclasped closely to her heart.

  At the same time Mercy Talcott, a little girl dressed like Desire butwith a less winning face, stepped up, also, to the platform. It was thecustom of those strange days to believe that certain children couldidentify witches, and Mercy was one of these children.

  The elder spoke again, "I have not made one most important charge of allas I wish to make it in the presence of the prisoner, herself. She has acreature of some other kind than human with whom she consults on mattersof witchery. It has been seen at night looking out of her window withglaring eyes and wide-open mouth set in its huge head.

  "Look up, witch. Mercy Talcott, is this the witch that you saw leavingyour house the day that your mother was burned?"

  Slowly, and in terror the little old lady lifted her head. At the sametime and in the same sobbing breaths Jonathan and Desire said, "It isGranny Hewitt!"

  Mercy saw, too, who it was. She remembered the little rag doll thatGranny had made her when she was a very little girl. It wore a gay pinkcalico dress, and its cheeks were stained red with pokeberry juice.Mercy caught her breath and hesitated. She knew that it was only infancy that she had seen the broomstick and its wild rider. As shewaited, Desire pulled Jonathan from his seat. Before her mother couldquestion or stop them, the two children were at the front of the pulpit,facing the Governor.

  Desire clasped her hands and raised them in pleading toward the greatman who bent down toward her in surprise. The whole meeting-house wasstill as Desire spoke in her sweet, high voice.

  "Your Excellency, I beg your mercy for our dear Granny. She is not awitch but a kind friend to all the children of Salem. It is I who shouldbe punished in her place. If your Excellency will but think back to thelast tithing day, you will remember that you gave two children, Jonathanand me, a pumpkin for our play. We took it to Granny Hewitt's house andshe helped us to make it into a Jack whose tallow drip, lighted, inGranny's window some one saw and spoke of to you. My father did not knowthat it was my fault, else he would not have accused Granny. Oh, speak,Jonathan, and attest to the truth of what I am saying!"

  She turned to the little boy but Jonathan, made courageous by Desire'sbravery, had gone to Mercy's side.

  "It was crows you saw on Gallows Hill," he said in her ear. "You never,never saw Granny Hewitt riding on a broomstick. Say so."

  Mercy looked into Granny's tear-stained face. Then, with a rush of loveshe threw herself into her arms. "I never saw Granny riding on abroomstick. She isn't a witch," Mercy declared.

  The white doors of the meeting-house opened wide and the people waitedwith heads bowed, half in shame and half in joy, as Granny, surroundedby the children, passed into the sunshine and the freedom outside. Thenthey followed, making a kind of triumphal procession to the cottage atthe end of the street. Kind hands led Granny all the way and kind heartsmade her forget all about her experiences. In her window there stillstood the grinning Jack-o'-lantern, and at sight of it bursts oflaughter took away all thought of tears. One of the elders set it uponone of Granny's fence posts and then held Desire up beside it.

  "Hurrah for the Jack-o'-lantern witch," some one said, and the crowdshouted their happiness and relief.

  "THE JACK-O'-LANTERN WITCH"]