,"
said Siller, with a solemn click of her knitting-needles.

Mary's nose went farther up in the air. She had heard plenty about the
Salem Witchcraft, and knew the stories were all as silly as silly can
be.

"Didn't you never hear tell of that Joan of Arc over there to Salem?"
went on Siller, who knew no more about history than a baby.

"We've heard of _Noah's_ ark," put in Patty.

"Well, Joan was a witch, and took the shape of a man, and marched at the
head of an army, all so grand; but she got found out, and they burnt her
up. It was fifty years ago or more."

"Beg your pardon, Siller; but it was almost four hundred years ago,"
said Mary; "and it wasn't in this country either, 'twas in France.
Mother told me all about it; she read it in a book of history."

Siller looked extremely mortified, and picked up a stitch without
speaking.

"And besides that," said Mary, "Joan of Arc was a beautiful young girl,
and not a witch. I know some of the people called her so; but mother
says they were very foolish and wicked."

"Well, I ain't a going to dispute your mother in her opinion of witches;
she knows twice to my once about books; but that ain't saying she knows
everything, Polly Lyman," returned Siller, laying down her knitting in
her excitement; "and 'twill take more'n your mother to beat me out of my
seven senses, when I've seen witches with my own naked eyes, and heard
'em a talking to their gray cats."

"Where? O, where?" cried little Patty.

All the "witch" Siller had ever seen was an Englishwoman by the name of
Knowles, and the most she ever heard her say to her cat was "Poor
pussy." But Siller did not like to be laughed at by a little girl like
Polly Lyman; so she tried to make it appear that she really knew some
remarkable things.

"Well," said Mary, "I don't see why a gray cat is any worse to talk to
than a white one: why is it? Mrs. Knowles asked my mother if it was
having a gray cat that made folks call her a witch.--Siller, Mrs.
Knowles wasn't the woman you meant, when you said you'd seen a witch?"

"Perhaps so--perhaps not. But what did your mother say when Mrs. Knowles
asked her that question?"

"Why, mother laughed, and told Mrs. Knowles not to part with her gray
cat, if it was good to catch mice."

"Yes, yes. I know your mother don't believe any of these things that's
going; but either Goody Knowles is a witch, or else I am," said Siller,
her tongue fairly running away with her.

"Why, Sil