Ye Lyttle Salem Maide: A Story of Witchcraft

Over two centuries ago a little Puritan maiden might have been seen passing along the Indian path which led from out Salem Town to her home. It was near the close of day. The so...

Although it was an evening in early June, the salt breeze blowing damp and cold from off the sea made Master Wentworth’s kitchen, with its cheerful fire, an agreeable place for...

Goodwife Higgins, who kept the home for the little maid and her father, rose early the next day before the sun was up. The soft light of dawn filled the air; the eastern sky was...

Master Wentworth, however, maintained a certain peace in his home, which, lying on the outskirts of the town, was just beyond the circle of village gossip. Moreover, he sternly...

“Ye don’t hear the tapping o’ a stick like as it might be Sir Jonathan, goody,” asked Deliverance, listening fearfully. “I like not his ruddy beard and his sharp, greeny-gray ey...

Those were terrible times in Salem. Day after day the same scenes were enacted. The judges with their cavalcade came in pomp from Ipswich, and rode solemnly down the street to t...

Her irons were removed, and she was conducted by the constable with a guard of four soldiers to the meeting-house. In the crowd that parted at the great door to make way for the...

In answer to these summons, a child came slowly up the aisle, clinging to his mother’s skirts. His thin little legs tottered under him; his face was peaked and wan, and he hid i...

Thus because she would not confess to the crime of which she had been proven guilty in the eyes of the law, she was sentenced to be hanged within five days, on Saturday, not lat...

Deliverance awakened happily the next morning for she had been dreaming of home, but as she glanced around her, her smile vanished. Nevertheless, her heart was lighter than it h...

That same morning, while it was still in the cool of the day and the sun cast long shadows across the dew-wet grass, Abigail was making her way along the forest path which led t...

Now, upon the very day of Abigail’s disappearance, ye godly minister of Boston Town, Mr. Cotton Mather, was in Salem in attendance upon the trial of an old woman, whose spectre...

Seldom has a little girl undertaken entirely alone a more perilous journey than Abigail had started upon. Salem was not more than fourteen miles from Boston Town, but the trip i...

Abigail’s shyness tempted her to hurry by him without attracting attention, but when she remembered that he might know something of the fine gentleman she was seeking, she pause...

Down many a crooked street and round many a corner, the crowd of students bore her, until at last they reached the Governor’s place, “a faire brick house” on the corner of Salem...

Abigail was awed at the sight of the latter, recalling how she had seen him in the forest only a few short hours ago. The student put down his wine-cup and rose, deeply respectful.

Never did Abigail forget that wonderful day. The journey could not be made until nightfall, as Lord Christopher, who insisted upon accompanying the expedition, would have to be...

Softly the daylight faded in Deliverance’s prison-cell. But the purple twilight which brought repose after the day’s work, and long hours of sweet sleep to the tired world, came...

At the foot of this scaffold, the driver stopped. Deliverance was bidden to step out. Attended by the guard, she ascended the ladder. Only one instinct remained to the heart-bro...

“My dear people,” he said, and the great physician’s voice was tender as if speaking to sick and fretful children, “my dear people, God hath afflicted you more sorely with this...