Salmagundi; or, The whim-whams and opinions of Launcelot Langstaff, esq. [pseud.] and others. By William Irving, James Kirke Paulding and Washington Irving. Printed from the original ed., with a preface and notes by Evert A. Duyckinck.

356 SALMAGUNDI.
the familiar of the little man in black, and the evil spirit that
presided at his incantations. The old hovel was considered as
the scene of their unhallowed rites, and its harmless tenants
regarded with a detestation which their inoffensive conduct never
merited. Though pelted and jeered at by the brats of the village, and frequently abused by their parents, the little man in
black never turned to rebuke them; and his faithful dog, when
wantonly assaulted, looked up wistfully in his master's face, and
there learned a lesson of patience and forbearance.
The movements of this inscrutable being had long been the
subject of speculation at Cockloft Hall, for its inmates were full
as much given to wondering as their descendants. The patience
with which he bore his persecutions, particularly surprised them;
for patience is a virtue but little known in the Cockloft family.
My grandmother, who, it appears, was rather superstitious, saw
in this humility nothing but the gloomy sullenness of a wizard
who restrained himself for the present, in hopes of midnight vengeance; the parson of the village, who was a man of some reading, pronounced it the stubborn insensibility of a stoic philosopher; my grandfather, who, worthy soul, seldom wandered abroad
in search of conclusions, took a data from his own excellent
heart, and regarded it as the humble forgiveness of a Christian.
But however different were their opinions as to the character of
the stranger, they agreed in one particular, namely, in never intruding upon his solitude; and my grandmother, who was at
that time nursing my mother, never left the room without wisely
putting the large family Bible in the cradle-a sure talisman, in
her opinion, agaist witchcraft and necromancy.
One stormy winter night, whan a bleak northeast wind
moaned about the cottages, and howled around the village steeple, my grandfather was returning from club, preceded by a ser