Мхи старої садиби

           Theremusthavebeenaspelleitherinthetobaccoorinthefiercely-glowingcoalthatsomysteriouslyburnedontopofit,orinthepungently-aromaticsmokewhichexhaledfromthekindledweed.Thefigure,afterafewdoubtfulattemptsatlengthblewforthavolleyofsmokeextendingallthewayfromtheobscurecornerintothebarofsunshine.Thereiteddiedandmeltedawayamongthemotesofdust.Itseemedaconvulsiveeffort;forthetwoorthreenextwhiffswerefainter,althoughthecoalstillglowedandthrewagleamoverthescarecrow’svisage.Theoldwitchclappedherskinnyhandstogether,andsmiledencouraginglyuponherhandiwork.Shesawthatthecharmworkedwell.Theshrivelled,yellowface,whichheretoforehadbeennofaceatall,hadalreadyathin,fantastichaze,asitwereofhumanlikeness,shiftingtoandfroacrossit;sometimesvanishingentirely,butgrowingmoreperceptiblethaneverwiththenextwhifffromthepipe.Thewholefigure,inlikemanner,assumedashowoflife,suchasweimparttoill-definedshapesamongtheclouds,andhalfdeceiveourselveswiththepastimeofourownfancy.

           Ifwemustneedsprycloselyintothematter,itmaybedoubtedwhethertherewasanyrealchange,afterall,inthesordid,wornoutworthless,andill-jointedsubstanceofthescarecrow;butmerelyaspectralillusion,andacunningeffectoflightandshadesocoloredandcontrivedastodeludetheeyesofmostmen.Themiraclesofwitchcraftseemalwaystohavehadaveryshallowsubtlety;and,atleast,iftheaboveexplanationdonothitthetruthoftheprocess,Icansuggestnobetter.