“Well, Mr Avery!” said Jennifer, “I could tell you somewhat an’ I listed.”
“Pray give us to hear it,” replied he. “What is it? and whom threatens it? The red cow or the tabby cat? Poor puss!” and he stooped down and stroked her as she lay on the hearth.
“There shall come a stranger hither!” pursued Jennifer, solemnly. “I saw him yestereven in the bars of the grate.”
“What favoured he?” asked Avery.
“’Twas a fair man, with a full purse,” she replied.
“Then he is welcome, an’ he come to give us the purse,” was the answer. “It shall be an other post, I cast little doubt; for he shall be a stranger, and maybe shall have full saddlebags.”
“You shall see, Mr Avery!” said Jennifer, pursing her lips.
“So I shall, Mrs Jennifer,” responded he. “But in how long time shall he be here?”
“That I cannot tell,” said she.
“Then the first fair man that cometh, whom you know not, shall serve?” answered he. “’Tis mighty easy witchery that. I could fall to prophesying mine own self at that rate. It shall rain, Mrs Jennifer, and thunder likewise; yea, and we shall have snow. And great men shall die, and there shall be changes in this kingdom, and some mighty ill statutes shall be passed. And you and I shall grow old, Mrs Jennifer (if we die not aforetime), and we shall suffer pain, and likewise shall enjoy pleasure. See you not what a wizard I am?”