{"id":"01KG6YGYW9406R1AWQ17SFZ00E","cid":"bafkreib3twqj2owycmbawqk3xtiozn4z7poyox5tq7kq4s4o56h6ppqwjq","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":293,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:45.581Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 4","source_file":"01KG6YDD8GKW0DRD5H2MY1NRZ7","start_line":231,"text":"it by the slab, I was carrying it before me, one cobwebbed hoof thrust\r\nout, which weird object at a turn of the stairs, suddenly touched my\r\ngirl, as she was ascending; whereupon, turning, and seeing no living\r\ncreature--for I was quite hidden behind my shield--seeing nothing\r\nindeed, but the apparition of the Evil One's foot, as it seemed, she\r\ncried out, and there is no knowing what might have followed, had I not\r\nimmediately spoken.\r\n\r\nFrom the impression thus produced, my poor girl, of a very nervous\r\ntemperament, was long recovering. Superstitiously grieved at my\r\nviolating the forbidden solitude above, she associated in her\r\nmind the cloven-footed table with the reputed goblins there. She\r\nbesought me to give up the idea of domesticating the table. Nor did\r\nher sister fail to add her entreaties. Between my girls there was a\r\nconstitutional sympathy. But my matter-of-fact wife had now declared in\r\nthe table's favor. She was not wanting in firmness and energy. To her,\r\nthe prejudices of Julia and Anna were simply ridiculous. It was her\r\nmaternal duty, she thought, to drive such weakness away. By degrees,\r\nthe girls, at breakfast and tea, were induced to sit down with us at\r\nthe table. Continual proximity was not without effect. By and by, they\r\nwould sit pretty tranquilly, though Julia, as much as possible, avoided\r\nglancing at the hoofed feet, and, when at this I smiled, she would look\r\nat me seriously--as much as to say, Ah, papa, you, too, may yet do the\r\nsame. She prophesied that, in connection with the table, something\r\nstrange would yet happen. But I would only smile the more, while my\r\nwife indignantly chided.\r\n\r\nMeantime, I took particular satisfaction in my table, as a night\r\nreading-table. At a ladies' fair, I bought me a beautifully worked\r\nreading-cushion, and, with elbow leaning thereon, and hand shading my\r\neyes from the light, spent many a long hour--nobody by, but the queer\r\nold book I had brought down from the garret.\r\n\r\nAll went well, till the incident now about to be given--an incident, be\r\nit remembered, which, like every other in this narration, happened long\r\nbefore the time of the \"Fox Girls.\"\r\n\r\nIt was late on a Saturday night in December. In the little old\r\ncedar-parlor, before the little old apple-tree table, I was sitting\r\nup, as usual, alone. I had made more than one effort to get up and go\r\nto bed; but I could not. I was, in fact, under a sort of fascination.\r\nSomehow, too, certain reasonable opinions of mine, seemed not so\r\nreasonable as before. I felt nervous. The truth was, that though, in\r\nmy previous night-readings, Cotton Mather had but amused me, upon\r\nthis particular night he terrified me. A thousand times I had laughed\r\nat such stories. Old wives' fables, I thought, however entertaining.\r\nBut now, how different. They began to put on the aspect of reality.\r\nNow, for the first time it struck me that this was no romantic\r\nMrs. Radcliffe, who had written the _Magnalia_; but a practical,\r\nhard-working, earnest, upright man, a learned doctor, too, as well\r\nas a good Christian and orthodox clergyman. What possible motive\r\ncould such a man have to deceive? His style had all the plainness\r\nand unpoetic boldness of truth. In the most straightforward way, he\r\nlaid before me detailed accounts of New England witchcraft, each\r\nimportant item corroborated by respectable townsfolk, and, of not a\r\nfew of the most surprising, he himself had been eye-witness. Cotton\r\nMather testified himself whereof he had seen. But, is it possible? I\r\nasked myself. Then I remembered that Dr. Johnson, the matter-of-fact\r\ncompiler of a dictionary, had been a believer in ghosts, besides many\r\nother sound, worthy men. Yielding to the fascination, I read deeper and\r\ndeeper into the night. At last, I found myself starting at the least\r\nchance sound, and yet wishing that it were not so very still.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 4"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6YGAW3P706T2A4K9155RNZ","peer_type":"segment","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6YDD8GKW0DRD5H2MY1NRZ7","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG6YCG626JN4FCG8QK17CQCF","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6YGYW8JQKG3FTB1Q0GR9AD","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG6YGYW6ZDZX9WEWQG786Y60","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:45.737Z","ts":"2026-01-30T07:57:52.455Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}