Lewie; Or, The Bended TwigBradford, Sarah H. (Sarah Hopkins)
General
Lewie; Or, The Bended Twig
Bradford, Sarah H. (Sarah Hopkins)
Fiction
“I snatched my hand from the cold grasp which held it, and fled from
the church. I remember nothing more, till I opened my eyes, and found
the old clergyman bathing my face with water. He had become alarmed at
my long absence, and, on coming back to seek me, had found me lying on
my face, on the grass, in front of the old church. We had been riding
again for some time, before I summoned resolution to tell the old
gentleman what I had seen in the church. He complimented me by saying,
that though his acquaintance with me had been short, he was much
mistaken in me, if I was a person to be deceived by the imagination;
and he said he much regretted that I had not mentioned the cause of my
fright before we left the old church, as it was always best to
ascertain at once the true nature of any such apparently frightful
object.”
“‘We have no time to turn back now,’ said he, ‘as we have already lost
more than half an hour; but the next best thing we can do is to stop at
the first house we come to, and see if we can find out anything
concerning the apparition which appeared to you in the church.’”
“We soon stopped before the door of a small log house, and at our
summons a pleasant-looking woman appeared. To the inquiries of the old
clergyman as to the appearance by which I had been so much alarmed, she
replied:”
“‘Oh, it’s the crazy minister, sir. He used to preach in that old
church; but he’s been crazy for a long time, and often he dresses
himself in a long white robe, and goes and sits in the pulpit of that
old church all day. He’s very gentle, she added, turning to me, ‘and
wouldn’t hurt anybody for the world; but I don’t wonder you got a good
fright.’ So ends my ghost story; and now, if you are ready for more
horrors, I will tell you my other adventure.”
“Our detention near the old church, and the state of the roads,
rendered heavy by late rains, made it impossible for us to reach the
town at which we had hoped to spend the night; and we had made up our
minds that we would stop at the first _promising_-looking establishment
we should see, when the coming up of a sudden storm left us no option,
but made us hail gladly the first human dwelling we came to, though
that was but a rough, rambling old hut, built of unhewn logs.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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