iS2 LITERARY PILGRIMAGES 



twist and coloration burnt into it as the story of 

 the deeds wrought on its summit is seared into the 

 annals of old Salem town. Here and there on its 

 fantastic ledges one sees zigzag marks struck pale 

 as if lightning had welted the tormented stone 

 and left the impress of its sudden anger there. 

 The softening years can do little with this rock. 

 A curse far older than that of the witch finding 

 has set its seal upon the height, and though the 

 gentle things of earth strive patiently to ame- 

 liorate the evidence they do little to wipe out the 

 bleakness of the place. The green of spring 

 grasses climbs patiently toward the topmost 

 ledges, indeed, and draws with it the gold of po- 

 tentilla and the white of wild strawberry blooms. 

 Dandelions set the round image of the sun in 

 sheltered places, and little lilac constellations of 

 bluets star the moister spots adown the slope, but 

 the barren soil is too shallow and the summer 

 turns all these to a brown garment of sorrowful 

 sackcloth and sprinkles it with the gray ashes of 

 drought. 



A few houses have boldly climbed the hill from 

 the street below, but none has yet dared the very 



