home. Well, so I puts on my cloak, and the moon was up, an' I goes along by the wood, and up by Fairlegh Field, an' I was singing the ballad on Joe Wrench's hanging, for the spirats had made me gamesome, when I sees somemut dark creep, creep, but iver so fast, arter me over the field, and making right ahead to the village. And I stands still, an' I was not a bit afeard; but sure I thought it was no living cretur, at the first sight. And so it comes up faster and faster, and then I sees it was not one thing, but a many, many things, and they darkened the whole field afore me. And what d' ye think they was?—a whole body o' grey rats, thousands and thousands on 'em, and they were making away from the outbuildings here. For sure they knew—the witch things,—that an ill luck sat on the spot. And so I stood aside by the tree, an' I laughed as I looked on the ugsome creturs, as they swept close by me, tramp, tramp, an' they never heeded me a jot; but some on 'em looked aslant at me with their glittering eyes, and shewed their white teeth, as if
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