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Updated: June 12, 2025
"The spirits will not say," answered the voice. "They seem to be angry at something. Ah, they say they must have more money." "But I paid at the door," protested Colonel Witham. "Yes, but they are angry," said the voice. "They are angry at me for taking so little for all I impart. They will have two dollars more, or yes, they are already disappearing quick, or you will be too late."
Henry had brought Hugh from Burgundy, and set him over a newly-founded Cistercian priory at Witham. The little settlement was in sore straits, and the impatient monks railed passionately at the king, who had abandoned them in their necessities. It was just after the rebellion, and Henry, hard pressed by anxiety, was in his harshest and most bitter temper.
He was born at Witham, in the county of Middlesex, 1613, with a remarkable circumstance of his mother's going eleven months with him, which naturalists look upon as portending a hardy and vigorous constitution. A strange circumstance is related of him, in his early years, in a life prefixed to his works.
"She and the old woman are here now for the winter, keeping house for Witham." "She won't let on, if she comes out," said Tim. But they saw nothing of her. Tired out with her day's work, the girl had gone to bed and was soundly sleeping. They arrived presently at a little plot of grass in front of the inn, from the centre of which there rose up a lofty flag-pole.
Theodora and Ellen came with her to help tread down the hay on the cart. "Here I am!" she cried cheerily. She tossed her hayfork into the empty rack and climbed in after it. Her sun hat was tied under her chin, and she had donned a white waist and a blue denim skirt. "Come on now with your hay!" Elder Witham moistened his hands, but made no comment. Jim was grinning.
"I had you in my hotel at Samoset Bay once, and you brought me bad luck. You get out. I don't want you around here. Get out, I say." He moved threateningly toward Henry Burns, and the boy, seeing it was useless to try to remain, stepped outside. "No, I don't want you, either," said Colonel Witham, turning abruptly now to John Ellison. "No boys around this mill.
Witham, it is true, was not so desolate as the Grande Chartreuse, but it was in the heart of the Forest, far from the abode of men. Even to- day Witham is not easy to reach by road.
Looking back, as they ran, they saw presently a square patch of light against the dark background of the house, where Colonel Witham had thrown wide the front door; and, in the light that streamed forth from within, the figure of the colonel stood disclosed in full relief. He was gesticulating wildly, with angry gaze directed toward the grinning face of the pumpkin.
A little black satanic imp peered coyly over her right shoulder. The inscription beneath her portrait read: Lorelei, the Sorceress. Your Future Foretold All Mysteries Explained Your Fate Read by the Stars Hidden Things Revealed Lost Property Recovered. Something about the gaudy and pretentious sign seemed to fascinate Colonel Witham.
Young Joe, lifting himself out of his chair with some effort, due to the weight of pie and honey stowed within, disappeared through the door. He returned, shortly, carrying a large handsome pumpkin on his shoulder. "What are you going to do with it?" asked John Ellison. Young Joe grinned. "Going to give it to Witham," he said.
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