There was but one person who entertained the least doubt of John
Podgers's gifts, and that person was his own nephew, a wild, roving
young fellow of twenty who had been brought up in his uncle's house
and lived there still, - that is to say, when he was at home, which
was not as often as it might have been. As he was an apt scholar,
it was he who read aloud every fresh piece of strange and terrible
intelligence that John Podgers bought; and this he always did of an
evening in the little porch in front of the house, round which the
neighbours would flock in crowds to hear the direful news, - for
people like to be frightened, and when they can be frightened for
nothing and at another man's expense, they like it all the better.
One fine midsummer evening, a group of persons were gathered in
this place, listening intently to Will Marks (that was the nephew's
name), as with his cap very much on one side, his arm coiled slyly
round the waist of a pretty girl who sat beside him, and his face
screwed into a comical expression intended to represent extreme
gravity, he read - with Heaven knows how many embellishments of his
own - a dismal account of a gentleman down in Northamptonshire
under the influence of witchcraft and taken forcible possession of
by the Devil, who was playing his very self with him.
Pages:
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120