Dulcibel | Page 9

forward one. The sun was pleasantly warm, and the wind
blowing soft and gently from the south; and a canary bird in the rustic
cage that hung on the wall was singing at intervals a hymn of rejoicing
at the coming of the spring. The bird was one that had been given her
by a distinguished sea-captain of Boston town, who had brought it
home from the West Indies. Dulcibel had tamed and petted it, until she
could let it out from the cage and allow it to fly around the room; then,
at the words, "Come Cherry," as she opened the little door of the cage,
the bird would fly in again, knowing that he would be rewarded for his
good conduct with a little piece of sweet cake.
Cherry would perch on her finger and sing his prettiest strains on some
occasions; and at others eat out of her hand. But his prettiest feat was to
kiss his mistress by putting his little beak to her lips, when she would
say in a caressing tone, "Kiss me, pretty Cherry."
After playing with the canary for a little while, Dulcibel sighed and put
him back in his cage, hearing a knock at the front door of the cottage.
And she had just turned from the cage to take a seat, when the door
opened and two persons entered.
"I am glad to see you, friends," she said calmly, inviting them to be
seated.
It was Joseph Putnam, accompanied by his friend and visitor, Ellis
Raymond, the young man of whom Dulcibel had spoken to Jethro
Sands.
Joseph Putnam was one of that somewhat distinguished family from
whom came the Putnams of Revolutionary fame; Major-General Israel
Putnam, the wolf-slayer, being one of his younger children. He, the
father I mean, was a man of fine, athletic frame, not only of body but of
mind. He was one of the very few in Salem village who despised the
whole witch-delusion from the beginning. He did not disbelieve in the

existence of witches--or that the devil was tormenting the "afflicted
children"--but that faith should be put in their wild stories was quite
another matter.
Of his companion, Master Ellis Raymond, I find no other certain
account anywhere than in my Quaker friend's manuscript. From the
little that is there given of personal description I have only the three
phrases "a comelie young man," "a very quick-witted person," "a very
determined and courageous man," out of which to build a physical and
spiritual description. And so I think it rather safer to leave the
portraiture to the imagination of my readers.
"Do you expect to remain long in Salem?" asked Dulcibel.
"I do not know yet," was the reply. "I came that I might see what
prospects the new world holds out to young men."
"I want Master Raymond to purchase the Orchard Farm, and settle
down among us," said Joseph Putnam. "It can be bought I think."
"I have heard people say the price is a very high one," said Dulcibel.
"It is high but the land is worth the money. In twenty years it will seem
very low. My father saw the time when a good cow was worth as much
as a fifty-acre farm, but land is continually rising in value."
"I shall look farther south before deciding," said Raymond. "I am told
the land is better there; besides there are too many witches here," and
he smiled.
"We have been up to see my brother Thomas," continued Joseph
Putnam. "He always has had the reputation of being a sober-headed
man, but he is all off his balance now."
"What does Mistress Putnam say?" asked Dulcibel.
"Oh, she is at the bottom of all his craziness, she and that elfish
daughter. Sister Ann is a very intelligent woman in some respects, but

she is wild upon this question."
"I am told by the neighbors that the child is greatly afflicted."
"She came in the room while we were there," responded Master
Raymond. "I knew not what to make of it. She flung herself down on
the floor, she crept under the table, she shrieked, she said Goody
Osburn was sticking pins in her, and wound up by going into
convulsions."
"What can it all mean?--it is terrible," said Dulcibel.
"Well, the Doctor says she is suffering under an 'evil hand,' and the
ministers have given their solemn opinion that she is bewitched; and
brother Thomas and Sister Ann, and about all the rest of the family
agree with them."
"I am afraid it will go hard with those two old women," interposed Ellis
Raymond.
"They will hang them as sure as they are tried," answered Joseph
Putnam. "Not that it makes much difference, for neither of them is
much to speak of;