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and administering of a love philter, and it was by a 

 person to whom such an action would seem utterly 

 incongruous. A very gentle, retiring girl in a New 

 England town eighty years ago was deeply in love 

 with the minister whose church she attended, and 

 of which her father was the deacon. The parson 

 was a widower, nearly of middle age, and exceedingly 

 sombre and reserved in character saddened, doubt- 

 less, by the loss of his two young children and his 

 wife through that scourge of New England, con- 

 sumption; but he was very handsome, and even his 

 sadness had its charm. His house, had burned 

 down as an additional misfortune, and he lived in 

 lodgings with two elderly women of his congregation. 

 Therefore church meetings and various gatherings 

 of committees were held at the deacon's house, and 

 the deacon's daughter saw him day after day, and 

 grew more desperately in love. Desperate certainly 

 she was when she dared even to think of giving a 

 love philter to a minister. The recipe was clearly 

 printed on the last page of an old dream book ; and 

 she carried it out in every detail. It was easy to 

 introduce it into the mug of flip which was always 

 brewed for the meeting, and the parson drank it 

 down abstractedly, thinking that it seemed more 

 bitter than usual, but showing no sign of this 

 thought. The philter was promised to have effect 

 in making the drinker love profoundly the first per- 

 son of opposite sex whom he or she saw after drink- 

 ing it ; and of course the minister saw Hannah as 

 she stood waiting for his empty tankard. The dull 

 details of parish work were talked over in the usual 



