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It never ceased to threaten Mr. Bell, and as the summer of 1819 approached, another of its pur­ poses became apparent. 54 EIGHT ` “Mid woodland bowers and grassy dell Dwelt pretty blue-eyed Betsy Bell. ” T accompanying this bit of doggerel in a book written some years later does not flatter Miss Betsy. She resembles a witch herself, with her hair in wild disarray and her hands raised in horror. If she had been a lady of high degree in old Scotland (a region much afflicted with witchcraft, it seems), some Highland min­ strel might have immortalized her sufferings in better verse, and a handsomer portrait might have been painted.

And Old Sugar Mouth looked on, praying and encouraging the boys. ” Its mirth was contagious. The whole family— except, perhaps, the exhausted Drew—burst into peals of laughter. The visitors continued to ask questions and the Spirit continued to tease them. It informed Calvin Johnson it was the ghost of a child buried in North Car­ olina; Calvin’s brother John was told that it was the witch of his stepmother. Its next invention was not so harmless. ” 32 O THER W ORLDS In another time and place this malicious lie might have had serious consequences.

We may be sure that these tales lost none of their dramatic content over the years. One of Harry’s chores was tending the fires, no light task when fireplaces were the only source of heat and wood was the only fuel. Like all young people, Harry liked to sleep late when he could get away with it. Winters in Tennessee can be chilly, and Mr. Bell was an early riser; it vexed him to rise from his warm bed and find that Harry had not started the fire. He cannot have been a harsh master, for Harry was so unimpressed by the scoldings he received that he continued to sleep in.