Goodwife Puddington listened with alarm. "How frightful to find witchcraft on our own shores! Charlestown and Salem have been so invaded by it. There even children have been accused." Fearfully she grasped little Hannah by the hand and hurried home.
When the fish were well cooked, Mrs. Puddington laid one temptingly on a hot pewter plate and covered it.
"There, Hannah, take this to Goodwife Trimmings. It may tempt her appetite. Yes, little Jacob may go with you."
Old Buff followed the two children down the grassy path and through a short stretch of woods to the neighbor's. As they returned, Hannah saw a queer looking figure digging roots in the woods. Her waistcoat and petticoat were red; her old apron green. She wore a black hat over a white linen hood tied under her chin. It was Goody Walford. Friendly Old Bluff darted to her side, while Hannah seized Jacob's hand and ran for home. Her haste and fright moved the little fellow to howls and tears.
"Stop," commanded Hannah, "you must not cry, for then they will say that I have bewitched you, and may be they will hang me as they do the Salem witches."
He caught her meaning, though he did not fully understand, and manfully gulped back his sobs.