No quick or sudden motion must mar the beautifully slow awakening; all should be as gradual as the unfolding of the petals of a rose until the climax is reached, where Galatea extends her arms to the waiting and expectant Pygmalion and the curtain is dropped.
There is no doubt of the success of the tableau when this little bit of silent acting is well done, and it makes an excellent winding-up piece to an evening’s entertainment.
CHAPTER XXV
WITCHERY
Assured of their welcome, laughter, jollity, and mystery all attend the Halloween frolics which are given up to sports with kale, apples, nuts, mirror, etc. These ordinarily commonplace articles are claimed, on this eventful eve, to be touched with magic, endowed with the power of prophecy and enabled to tell of wonderful adventure or fortune which will befall any one who puts their virtues to the test. And it is Halloween, of all the nights in the year, that is best loved by the sprightly little fairies, gnomes, and elves, who delight in sallying forth from their homes under stones and in old hollow trees to play pranks on us poor mortals. The witches also are out, flying through the air to their annual dance, on their queer steeds, either cats or broomsticks.
James Hogg’s poem, “The Witch of Fife,” gives a comical description of the witch who flew out of the lum (chimney) and left her husband, who soon followed with his coat “waflling in the wynde.” The witches’ rides would not be apt to injure old broomsticks, but should you happen to see any cats the morning after Halloween, notice how tired the poor creatures look after carrying the witches all night! That is why the Scotch lads and lassies pity the pussies.
Of course, there are really no fairies, genii, or witches; they are all only “make-believe.” Nor are we to put any faith in
Halloween Fortunes,
for these are merely tried to furnish sport for the time and to make us merry; a hearty laugh of itself is good fortune. Often it is the best kind of medicine.
