there was a fringe of dead snakes and lizards, long since as dry as dust.
Under the blazing logs, which filled the hut with an almost unbearable
heat, an ashcake was buried beneath a little gravelike mound of ashes.

Aunt Ailsey took up a corncob pipe from the stones and fell to smoking. She
sank at once into a senile reverie, muttering beneath her breath with
short, meaningless grunts. Warm as the summer evening was, she shivered
before the glowing logs.

For a time the child sat patiently watching the embers; then she leaned
forward and touched the old woman's knee. "Aunt Ailsey, O Aunt Ailsey!"

Aunt Ailsey stirred wearily and crossed her swollen feet upon the hearth.

"Dar ain' nuttin' but a hoot owl dat'll sass you ter yo' face," she
muttered, and, as she drew her pipe from her mouth, the gray smoke circled
about her head.

The child edged nearer. "I want to speak to you, Aunt Ailsey," she said.
She seized the withered hand and held it close in her own rosy ones. "I
want you--O Aunt Ailsey, listen! I want you to conjure my hair coal black."

She finished with a gasp, and with parted lips sat waiting. "Coal black,
Aunt Ailsey!" she cried again.

A sudden excitement awoke in the old woman's face; her hands shook and she
leaned nearer. "Hi! who dat done tole you I could conjure, honey?" she
demanded.

"Oh, you can, I know you can. You conjured back Sukey's lover from Eliza