well-known frequenter of puritan assemblies all the country round,
who was holding forth, and that with much freedom, in tones that
sounded very like vituperation, if not malediction, against some one
invisible. He soon found that the object of his wrath was a certain
Welshwoman, named Rees, by her neighbours considered objectionable
on the ground of witchcraft, against whom this much could with truth
be urged, that she was so far from thinking it disreputable, that
she took no pains to repudiate the imputation of it. Her dress, had
it been judged by eyes of our day, would have been against her, but
it was only old-fashioned, not even antiquated: common in Queen
Elizabeth's time, it lingered still in remote country places--a gown
of dark stuff, made with a long waist and short skirt over a huge
farthingale; a ruff which stuck up and out, high and far, from her
throat; and a conical Welsh hat invading the heavens. Stopchase,
having descried her in the yard, had taken the opportunity of
breaking out upon her in language as far removed from that of
conventional politeness as his puritanical principles would permit.
Doubtless he considered it a rebuking of Satan, but forgot that,
although one of the godly, he could hardly on that ground lay claim
to larger privilege in the use of bad language than the archangel
Michael. For the old woman, although too prudent to reply, she
scorned to flee, and stood regarding him fixedly. Richard sought to
interfere and check the torrent of abuse, but it had already
gathered so much head, that the man seemed even unaware of his
attempt. Presently, however, he began to quail in the midst of his
storming. The green eyes of the old woman, fixed upon him, seemed to
be slowly fascinating him. At length, in the very midst of a volley
of scriptural epithets, he fell suddenly silent, turned from her,
and, with the fork on which he had been leaning, began to pitch the
sheaves into the barn. The moment he turned his back, Goody Rees