d she well proved her claim to
that name, when she insisted that the cellar door might be kept
locked till she had time to get out of the reach of all pursuit.

Poor Sally Evans! I am sure she rued the day that ever she listened
to a fortune teller. Sally was as harmless a girl as ever churned a
pound of butter; but Sally was credulous, ignorant, and
superstitious. She delighted in dream books, and had consulted all
the cunning women in the country to tell her whether the two moles
on her cheek denoted that she was to have two husbands, or two
children. If she picked up an old horse-shoe going to church, she
was sure that would be a lucky week. She never made a black pudding
without borrowing one of the parson's old wigs to hang in the
chimney, firmly believing there was no other means to preserve them
from burning. She would never go to bed on Midsummer eve without
sticking up in her room the well-known plant called Midsummer-men,
as the bending of the leaves to the right or to the left would not
fail to tell her whether Jacob, of whom we shall speak presently,
was true or false. She would rather go five miles about than pass
near a church-yard at night. Every seventh year she would not eat
beans because they grew downward in the pod, instead of upward;
and, though a very neat girl, she would rather have gone with her
gown open than to have taken a pin from an old woman, for fear of
being bewitched. Poor Sally had so many unlucky days in her
calendar, that a large portion of her time became of little use,
because on these days she did not dare set about any new work. And
she would have refused the best offer in the country if made to her
on a Friday, which she thought so unlucky a day that she often said
what a pity it was that there were any Friday in the week. Sally had
twenty pounds left her by her grandmother. She had long been courted
by Jacob, a sober lad, with whom she lived fellow servant at a
creditable farmer's. Honest Jacob, like his namesake of old, thought
it little to wait seven years to get this damsel to wife, because of
the love he bore her, for Sally had promised to marry him when he
could match her twenty pounds with another of his own.

Now there was one Robert, a rambling idle young gardener, who
instead of sitting down steadily in one place, used to roam about
the country, and do odd jobs where he could get them. No one
understood any thing about him, except that he was a down-looking
fellow, w