Dulcibel | Page 5

a young man with the elders of the village; for he had
early seen how advantageous it was to have a good standing in the
church, and was very orthodox in his faith, and very regular in his
attendance at all the church services. Besides, he was a staunch
champion of the Reverend Mr. Parris in all his difficulties with the
parish, and in return was invariably spoken of by the minister as one of
the most promising young men in that neighborhood.
Jethro resided with his aunt, the widow Sands. She inherited from her
husband the whole of his property. His deed for the land narrated that
the boundary line ran "from an old dry stump, due south, to the
southwest corner of his hog-pen, then east by southerly to the top of the
hill near a little pond, then north by west to the highway side, and
thence along the highway to the old dry stump again aforesaid." There
is a tradition in the village that by an adroit removal of his hog-pen to
another location, and the uprooting and transplanting of the old dry
stump, at a time when nobody seemed to take a very active interest in
the adjoining land, owing to its title being disputed in successive
lawsuits, Jethro, who inherited at the death of his aunt, became the
possessor of a large tract of land that did not originally belong to him.
But then such stories are apt to crop up after the death of every man
who has acquired the reputation of being crafty and close in his
dealings.
We left Jethro, after his interview with Dulcibel, walking on in order
that he might avoid her further company. After going a short distance
he turned and saw that she was riding rapidly homeward. Then he
began to retrace his steps.
"It was bound to come," he muttered. "I have seen she was getting cold
and thought it was Leah's work, but it seems she was true to her
promise after all. Well, Leah is poor, and not of so good a family, but

she is worth a dozen of such as Dulcibel Burton."
Then after some minutes' silent striding, "I hate her though for it, all the
same. Everybody will know she has thrown me off. But nobody shall
get ahead of Jethro Sands in the long run. I'll make her sorry for it
before she dies, the spoiled brat of a Quaker infidel!"
CHAPTER III.
The Circle in the Minister's House.
It would, perhaps be unfair to hold the Reverend Master Parris
responsible for the wild doings that went on in the parsonage house
during the winter evenings of 1691-2, in the face of his solemn
assertion, made several years afterwards, that he was ignorant of them.
And yet, how could such things have been without the knowledge
either of himself or his wife? Mistress Parris has come down to us with
the reputation of a kindly and discreet woman--nothing having been
said to her discredit, so far as I am aware, even by those who had a
bitter controversy with her husband. And yet she certainly must have
known of the doings of the famous "circle," even if she refrained from
speaking of them to her husband.
At the very bottom of the whole thing, perhaps, were the West Indian
slaves--"John Indias" and his wife Tituba, whom Master Parris had
brought with him from Barbados. There were two children in the house,
a little daughter of nine, named Elizabeth; and Abigail Williams, three
years older. These very probably, Tituba often had sought to impress,
as is the manner of negro servants, with tales of witchcraft, the
"evil-eye" and "evil hand" spirits, powwowing, etc. Ann Putnam,
another precocious child of twelve, the daughter of a near neighbor,
Sergeant Putnam, the parish clerk, also was soon drawn into the
knowledge of the savage mysteries. And, before very long, a regular
"circle" of these and older girls was formed for the purpose of amusing
and startling themselves with the investigation and performance of
forbidden things.
At the present day this would not be so reprehensible. We are

comparatively an unbelieving generation; and what are called "spiritual
circles" are common, though not always unattended with mischievous
results. But at that time when it was considered a deadly sin to seek
intercourse with those who claimed to have "a familiar spirit," that such
practices should be allowed to go on for a whole winter, in the house of
a Puritan minister, seems unaccountable. But the fact itself is
undoubted, and the consequences are written in mingled tears and
blood upon the saddest pages of the history of New England.
Among the members of this "circle" were Mary Walcott, aged
seventeen, the daughter of Captain Walcott; Elizabeth Hubbard and