Today a stranger stopping in our tavern told the most amazing story, which did make my ears tingle.
In the midst of Salem Town, lying in the mud and snow as if dead, was Alice Parker. She laid there for some time, the people being afraid to touch her. One of the goodwives assured the men that Goody Parker had fallen unconscious before; but it was sometime before one of them agreed to lift her from the road and carry her over his shoulder.
Even then she did not awake, not even when the goodman, quite by accident, slipped in the mud and dropped her on the stony ground. They fetched her up once more and at last reached her home, where the women took off her outer garments and laid her in bed. What an alarm she raised then as she suddenly sat up and began laughing.
I have never heard the like of it. Was she taken under an evil hand? Had her spirit left her body to do mischief?
News has reached us of the sermon preached by the Reverend Parris last Sabbath Day. My good husband John has been railing since this morning, filling the house with great roars of “wicked and reprobate.”
The Lord has blessed my husband with great strength of body and mind. But I confess I was relieved when he pushed out of the house into the snow, making his way to the cider mill where he has been shaking the walls with his rage.
It is well known that my husband is not in good favor with the Reverend Parris or those who support his cause. If he were alone in his opinions I would fear for him; but he is one of many who are opposed. Still, I pray that he will contain his temper lest he be reproved.
It has been especially cold of late, and I am yearning for the warmth of spring. To amuse myself I have begun collecting all my herbal remedies for various ailments. Many of them will come from my own garden; I can trade for the rest with cider or apples from the orchard.
Today I am especially pleased with this picture.