le that, and it will be stolen back again!"

At other times she would sit in the church-door, lay her crutch across
the threshold, and wait to see who would dare to step across it. Woe
then to whomsoever had transgressed any of the commandments! All through
the summer the ague would plague him, his oxen would die, the tares
would choke his corn, his limbs would be racked with pleurisy, or he
would be nearly mauled to death in the village tavern.

Often she sat for hours at home, among her thorns and thistles, sobbing
and moaning, and at such times the common folks believed that the whole
district would be visited by a hailstorm. Sometimes she roamed about for
weeks, nobody knew where, nobody knew why, and during all that time the
hosts of grasshoppers, wood-lice, spiders, caterpillars, and other
Heaven-sent plagues, multiplied terribly throughout the land; but the
moment the old woman returned they all disappeared again in a day
without leaving a trace behind them.

At one time they fancied she was at the point of death.

She lay outside her hut close to the well and drank incessantly of its
water. At last she collapsed altogether, she could not even lift her
hands. The passers-by perceived that she was parched with thirst, was
wrestling with death, and yet could not die. If they had but given her a
drink of cold water, she would immediately have been freed from the
torments of life, but nobody durst approach to give her to drink. On
that same day the lightning thrice struck the village, and such a deluge
of rain descended that the water flooded the roads and invaded the
houses.

The next day there was nothing at all the matter with the old woman, but
she went about bowed down, shaking and leaning heavily on her crutch as
at other times.

When the spring of 1831 was passing away, all sorts of terrible
premonitory signs warned the people of the frightful visitation which
was about to befall humanity. Nature herself made the people anxious
and uncomfortable. There were showers of falling stars, it rained blood
in various places, death-headed moths flew about in the evenings,
wolves, tame and fawning like dogs, appeared in the village and let
themselves be beaten to death before the thresholds of the houses.

What was going to happen?--nobody could tell.

Everyone augured, feared, felt that mourning and woe were close at hand;
yes, everyone.

The trees made haste to put forth their blossoms, they made even greate