AN INCIDENT; 57 



The blue watery eyes of Dame Huggins were fixed intently, 

 though vacantly, on the narrator of this tale of wonder ; and 

 the diminutive milk-pot, held in her shaking hand, was fast 

 shedding its contents on the threshold of her door, when the 

 sound of many voices to which, however, the listener seemed 

 deaf suddenly arrested the voice of the speaker. Just then, 

 turning into the village from the meadows between that and 

 the church, appeared a little crowd of people, who, making 

 their way towards the cottage, rapidly approached. 



At the head of the party came a tall strapping fellow, whom 

 the milkman presently recognized as his brother Joe, the 

 ghost-seer of the previous night. This man was the bearer 

 of some burthen, of what nature was at first indiscernible ; 

 but it soon became evident, as he drew near, that he was holding 

 in his arms, with as much ease apparently as a woman bears 

 an infant, a seemingly lifeless body. The group stopped when 

 it reached the door of the cottage, where for a moment we 

 must leave it, to account for its arrival. 



Joe, having slept off his panic of the previous night, had 

 repaired early that morning to the meadows to cut grass by the 

 side of the river, which was at that time low. By that part 

 of the stream which wound below the church hill, he had 

 perceived, half-way down the bank, which was there steep and 

 rugged, a crutch-stick, and being led by this to look further, 

 discovered lying below, half in the water, half among the 

 rushes, the person to whom evidently the stick belonged. He 



