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from the breast of her cat in the doorway But as I live, as I rode

past, a voice caloofield, and the fagots that thou

didst gather for the despised and poor shall turn into blessings,

like bars of silver That which thou hast given, hast thou forever

Go on and fear not, and strike for liberty, and no harh thee" As she spoke I saw the bent back of the poor old crone

in the doorway beside her cat, and partly because of her blessing,

and partly because, as I said before, whether witch or not, she was

aged and feeble, and ill fitted for such work, I leapt froots, and laid the such tears of gratitude

over that slight service and calling down such childish blessings

upon an to have little doubt that she was no

witch, but only a poor and solitary old woman, which to my mind is

the forlornest state of humanity How a man fares without those of

his own flesh and blood I can understand, since a man must needs

have some comfort in his own endurance of hardships, but what a

woman can do without chick or child, and no solace in her own

dependency, I know not Verily I know not that such be to blame if

they turn to Satan hiery Key of doing