pipe and seemed now to continue this
occupation as much for the enjoyment it afforded as because it was
an essential condition of his existence. It was wonderful to see how
exceedingly like a human being it behaved. Its eyes (for it appeared
to possess a pair) were bent on Mother Rigby, and at suitable junctures
it nodded or shook its head. Neither did it lack words proper for the
occasion--"Really!"--"Indeed!"--"Pray tell me!"--"Is it possible!"--"Upon
my word!"--"By no means!"--"Oh!"--"Ah!"--"Hem!" and other such weighty
utterances as imply attention, inquiry, acquiescence, or dissent on
the part of the auditor. Even had you stood by and seen the scarecrow
made, you could scarcely have resisted the conviction that it
perfectly understood the cunning counsels which the old witch poured
into its counterfeit of an ear. The more earnestly it applied its lips
to the pipe, the more distinctly was its human likeness stamped among
visible realities, the more sagacious grew its expression, the more
lifelike its gestures and movements, and the more intelligibly audible
its voice. Its garments too glistened so much the brighter with an
illusory magnificence. The very pipe in which burned the spell of all
this wonder-work ceased to appear as a smoke-blackened earthern stump,
and became a meerschaum with painted bowl and amber mouthpiece.

It might be apprehended, however, that, as the life of the illusion
seemed identical with the vapor of the pipe, it would terminate
simultaneously with the reduction of the tobacco to ashes. But the
beldam foresaw the difficulty.

"Hold thou the pipe, my precious one," said she, "while I fill it for
thee again."

It was sorrowful to behold how the fine gentleman began to fade back
into a scarecrow while Mother Rigby shook the ashes out of the pipe and
proceeded to replenish it from her tobacco-box.

"Dickon," cried she, in her high, sharp tone, "another coal for this
pipe."

No sooner said than the intensely red speck of fire was glowing within
the pipe-bowl and the scarecrow, without waiting for the witch's
bidding, applied the tube to his lips and drew in a few short,
convulsive whiffs, which soon however became regular and equable.

"Now, mine own heart's darling," quoth Mother Rigby, "whatever may
happen to thee, thou must stick to thy pipe. Thy life is in it; and
that, at least, thou knowest well, if thou knowest nought besides.
Stick to thy pipe, I say! Smoke, puff, bl