Phœbe. Oh, Uncle Corey, what's the matter?
Giles. The matter is there be too many evil things abroad nowadays for a man to be out after nightfall. When things that can be hit by musket balls lay in wait, old Giles Corey is as brave as any man; but when it comes to devilish black beasts and black men that musket balls bound back from— What! you here, Ann Hutchins? What be you out after dark for?
Ann. I came over to see Olive, Goodman Corey.
Giles. You'd best stayed by your own hearth if you've got one. Young women have no call to be out gadding after dark in these times.
Phœbe. Oh, Uncle Corey, something did frighten Ann as she came through the wood. A black beast, with horns and a tail and eyes like balls of fire, jumped out of the bushes at her, and bade her sign the book in a dreadful voice.
Giles. What! Was't so, Ann?
Ann. I know not. There was something.
Olive (laughing). 'Twas naught but Ann's own shadow that her fear gave a voice and a touch to. Say naught to frighten Ann, father; she is the most timorous maid in Salem Village now.
Giles. There is some wisdom in fear nowadays. You make too light of it, lass.
Olive (laughing). Nay, father, I'll turn to and hang up my own shadow in the chimbly-place for a witch, an you say so.