The Broad Highway

I am forging a bar for my cottage door: such a bar as might give

check to an army, or resist a battering-ram; a bar that shall

defy all the night-prowlers that ever prowled; a stout, solid

bar, broad as my wrist, and thick as my two fingers; that,

looking upon it as it lies in its sockets across the door,

Charmian henceforth may sleep and have no fear.

The Ancient sat perched on his stool in the corner, but for once

we spoke little, for I was very busy; also my mind was plunged in

a profound reverie.

And of whom should I be thinking but of Charmian, and of the

dimple in her shoulder?

"'Tis bewitched you be, Peter!" said the old man suddenly,

prodding me softly with his stick, "bewitched as ever was," and

he chuckled.

"Bewitched!" said I, starting.

"Ah!--theer you stand wi' your 'ammer in your 'and--a-starin' an'

a-starin' at nobody, nor nothin'--leastways not as 'uman eye can

see, an' a-sighin', an' a-sighin'--"

"Did I indeed sigh, Ancient?"

"Ah--that ye did--like a cow, Peter, or a 'orse 'eavy an' tired

like. An' slow you be, an' dreamy--you as was so bright an'

spry; theer's some--fools, like Joel Amos, as might think as

'twere the work o' ghostes, or demons, a-castin' their spells on

ye, or that some vampire 'ad bit ye in the night, an' sucked your

blood as ye lay asleep, but I know different--you 'm just

bewitched, Peter!" and he chuckled again.

"Who knows?--perhaps I am, but it will pass, whatever it is, it

will pass--"

"Don't ye be too sure o' that--theer's bewitchments an'

bewitchments, Peter."

Hereupon the smithy became full of the merry din of my hammer,

and while I worked the Ancient smoked his pipe and watched me,

informing me, between whiles, that the Jersey cow was "in calf,"

that the hops seemed more than usually forward, and that he had

waked that morning with a "touch o' the rheumatics," but,

otherwise, he was unusually silent; moreover, each time that I

happened to glance up, it was to find him regarding me with a

certain fixity of eye, which at another time would have struck me

as portentous.

"Ye be palish this marnin', Peter!" said he, dabbing at me

suddenly with his pipe-stem; "shouldn't wonder if you was to tell

me as your appetite was bad; come now--ye didn't eat much of a

breakfus' this marnin', did ye?"

"I don't think I did, Ancient."