“Oh no, we wont ask that,” said I, “but you will not object to relating some experiments of this kind that you have known others make?” “Certainly not. When I was a young girl, a great deal more attention was paid to the Eve of All Saints’ Day than at present, and love-stricken lasses would look forward for months for its arrival, in order to try their sweethearts. You remember Lizzie Wells, afterward Mrs. Jackson?” “Oh, very well,” replied Mr. Wilmot, to whom the question was addressed. “I shall never forget one of her attempts to raise the spirit of her future spouse. Poor girl! It turned out rather a serious matter for the time. She was a timid, bashful thing, and was particularly sensitive when any one jested with her about a sweetheart. It is usually the case, that love charms are tried by at least two, and sometimes three or four girls, in order that they may brace up each other’s courage. But Lizzie had no sister as a confidante, and there was no maiden of her acquaintance to whom she would betray the anxiety she felt on the momentous subject of love. So, on Hallow-Eve she must try her sweetheart all alone, or still remain in doubt. But doubt had pressed upon her bosom until it could be borne no longer. As the day that closed the month of October began to fade into twilight, Lizzie’s resolution in regard to a certain experiment, which had been strong when the bright sun looked down from the sky, began to waver. Clouds had heaved themselves up in the west, and the cold autumn wind began to moan among the old forest trees. The young girl felt a creeping shudder pass through her frame, as her imagination pictured the weird hour of midnight, and herself, alone, seeking by strange rites to conjure up the spirit of her lover. But the thought of one who, of all others she had yet seen, embodied in her eyes the highest human perfections, and the uncertainty that accompanied this thought, brought her mind back again to its first resolution. To have some sure knowledge on this subject, was worth almost any trial, and the strong desire she felt for its possession, nerved her heart for the task she had laid upon herself. “As night closed in, the air became tempestuous. The wind rushed and moaned through the trees that were near and around her father’s dwelling. Every window rattled, and the shutters and gates seemed as if moved by some spirit-hands, for they were still scarcely a moment at a time. Lizzie saw in all this disturbance of the elements a sign that weird ones were abroad, and you may well suppose that her heart trembled when she thought of the experiment she was about to make. When Hallow-Eve occurred just one year before, she had tried one of the ordinary love charms; but its indications were not satisfactory to her mind.” “What was it?” asked Kate. “The salt egg,” replied Aunt Edith. “Oh!” “The salt egg?—what is that?” I inquired.