wasn’t cold, quite, but that feeling that, thank heavens, you only have once in a lifetime, was with me. In another moment another queer rap, and a female voice asked, “Who’s there?” Uncle Jake’s hired man took me by the arm, and said in a strong, bold voice, “A brother wants to enter.” The truth was the brother didn’t. He was all in, and about out. I heard the female voice say, or rather sing it, that there was a brother outside knocking for admission. Then a great rustling of feet was heard when the lady at the wicket said, “Bring thy brother in.” I was past recognizing anybody by this time, although the woman at the door turned out to be our hired girl, but I couldn’t recognize her then. They all rose and sang, while I marched to the other end of the great hall and knelt before a throne; and a man with more cloves on his breath and a more elaborate regalia, read something about rum being a serpent, and strong drink was raging. Another rap or two with the mallet, and then we took another circle while they sang, and then we stopped in front of a lesser important booth, and there had more reading, and another odor of cloves. But all this time my neck would
