But, as Siller said, they were all rather stirred up, and wouldn't be in a hurry about going to bed. Perhaps the blackberry tea they had drunk at supper time was too strong for Siller's nerves; at any rate, she felt so wide awake that she chose to sit up knitting, with Patty in her lap, and did not perceive that both the children were growing sleepy.
It was a lovely evening, and the bright moon sailing across the blue sky set the simple woman to thinking,—not of the great and good God of whom she had been hearing this evening, but, I am ashamed to say, of witches!
"I'm glad I've got company," said she, nodding to Mary, "for there's kind of a creeping feeling goes over me such shiny nights as this. It's just the time for Goody Knowles to be out on a broomstick."
"Why, Siller Noonin," exclaimed Mary, "you don't believe in such foolishness as that! I never knew you did before!"
Siller did not answer, for she suddenly remembered that Mrs. Lyman was very particular as to what was said before her children.
"Tell me, Siller; you don't suppose witches go flying round when the moon shines?" asked Mary, curling her lip.
"That's what folks say, child."
"Well, I do declare, Siller, I thought you had more sense."
Mrs. Noonin's black eyes sparkled with anger.
"That's free kind of talk for a little girl that's some related to Sir William Phips; that used to be Governor of this Commonwealth of Massachusetts," said she.