“Maybe not,” said Aaron. Then he went to a large wooden chest that sat in the corner, unlocked it, and presently brought forth a bundle of red cloth. This he placed on the floor and sat beside it, motioning the children to sit on the floor in a circle around the bundle. He unrolled the cloth until he came to an oval-shaped mirror. The frame was heavy and richly carved, and shone as bright as new silver shines.
Aaron placed the beautiful mirror carefully on the floor, face up. Then he threw the red cloth over his head and over the children’s heads. If any one had been peeping through the chinks of the chimney he would have been very much puzzled by what he saw and heard. He would have seen the red cloth bobbing up and down as if those underneath were bowing their heads back and forth, and he would have heard muffled exclamations of wonder, the loudest of all being Drusilla’s involuntary cry:—
“Don’t dat beat all!”
AARON SHOWING THE MIRROR
The children never told what happened under the cloth, nor what they saw in the mirror. When Aaron rose to his feet, the cloth still over his head, he made a few movements with his arms, and lo! there was the bundle in his hands with the mirror wrapped in its folds.
Sweetest Susan looked at Buster John. “Wasn’t it easy?” she cried. “Did you ever see anything as bright”—She would have said more, but Aaron touched her gently on the arm and put his finger on his lips. At that moment a gander in the spring lot began to scream.
“What did he say?” asked Aaron, looking at Drusilla.
“He say, ‘I’m gwine atter water—water—who wanter go?’”