Prudy. Prudy laughed.

"Why, grandma! my eyes are as good as can be. I don't wear glasses."

"So thee doesn't, child, surely. I am a little absent-minded, thinking of
old mother Knowles."

"Grandma, please wait a minute," said Prudy, after she had picked up the
stitch. "If you are going to tell a story, I want to get my work and
bring it in here. I'm in a hurry about that scarf for mamma."

"It is nothing very remarkable," said Mrs. Read, as the children seated
themselves, one on each side of her, Prudy with her crocheting of
violet and white worsted, and Dotty with nothing at all to do but play
with the tongs.

"Mrs. Knowles was a very large, fleshy woman, who lived near my father's
house when I was a little girl. Some people were very much afraid of
her, and thought her a witch. Her sister's husband, Mr. Palmer, got very
angry with her, and declared she bewitched his cattle."

"Did she, grandma?" asked Dotty.

"No, indeed, my dear; and couldn't have done it if she had tried."

"Then 'twas very _unpertinent_ for him to say so!"

"He was a lazy man, and did not take proper care of his animals.
Sometimes he came over and talked with my mother about his trials with
his wicked sister-in-law. He said he often went to the barn in the