"The worshipful Master Gookin," whispered she, "hath a comelymaiden to his daughter. And hark ye, my pet! Thou hast a fair outside,and a pretty wit enough of thine own. Yea, a pretty wit enough! Thouwilt think better of it when thou hast seen more of other people'swits. Now, with thy outside and thy inside, thou art the very man towin a young girl's heart. Never doubt it! I tell thee it shall beso. Put but a bold face on the matter, sigh, smile, flourish thyhat, thrust forth thy leg like a dancing-master, put thy right hand tothe left side of thy waistcoat, and pretty Polly Gookin is thine own!"All this while the new creature had been sucking in and exhalingthe vapory fragrance of his pipe, and seemed now to continue thisoccupation as much for the enjoyment it afforded as because it wasan essential condition of his existence. It was wonderful to see howexceedingly like a human being it behaved. Its eyes (for it appearedto possess a pair) were bent on Mother Rigby, and at suitablejunctures it nodded or shook its head. Neither did it lack wordsproper for the occasion: "Really! Indeed! Pray tell me! Is itpossible! Upon my word! By no means! Oh! Ah! Hem!" and other suchweighty utterances as imply attention, inquiry, acquiescence, ordissent on the part of the auditor. Even had you stood by and seen thescarecrow made, you could scarcely have resisted the conviction thatit perfectly understood the cunning counsels which the old witchpoured into its counterfeit of an ear. The more earnestly it appliedits lips to the pipe, the more distinctly was its human likenessstamped among visible realities, the more sagacious grew itsexpression, the more lifelike its gestures and movements, and the moreintelligibly audible its voice. Its garments, too, glistened so muchthe brighter with an illusory magnificence. The very pipe, in whichburned the spell of all this wonderwork, ceased to appear as asmoke-blackened earthen stump, and became a meerschaum, with paintedbowl and amber mouthpiece.
It might be apprehended, however, that as the life of theillusion seemed identical with the vapor of the pipe, it wouldterminate simultaneously with the reduction of the tobacco to ashes.
But the beldam foresaw the difficulty.
"Hold thou the pipe, my precious one," said she, "while I fill itfor thee again."It was sorrowful to behold how the fine gentleman began to fadeback into a scarecrow while Mother Rigby shook the ashes out of thepipe and proceeded to replenish it from her tobacco-box.
"Dickon," cried she, in her high, sharp tone, "another coal forthis pipe!"No sooner said than the intensely red speck of fire was glowingwithin the pipe-bowl; and the scarecrow, without waiting for thewitch's bidding, applied the tube to his lips and drew in a few short,convulsive whiffs, which soon, however, became regular and equable.
"Now, mine own heart's darling," quoth Mother Rigby, "whatevermay happen to thee, thou must stick to thy pipe. Thy life is in it;and that, at least, thou knowest well, if thou knowest nought besides.
Stick to thy pipe, I say! Smoke, puff, blow thy cloud; and tell thepeople, if any question be made, that it is for thy health, and thatso the physician orders thee to do. And, sweet one, when thou shaltfind thy pipe getting low, go apart into some corner, and (firstfilling thyself with smoke) cry sharply, 'Dickon, a fresh pipe oftobacco!' and, 'Dickon, another coal for my pipe!' and have it intothy pretty mouth as speedily as may be. Else, instead of a gallantgentleman in a gold-laced coat, thou wilt be but a jumble of sticksand tattered clothes, and a bag of straw, and a withered pumpkin!
Now depart, my treasure, and good luck go with thee!""Never fear, mother!" said the figure, in a stout voice, andsending forth a courageous whiff of smoke, "I will thrive, if anhonest man and a gentleman may!""Oh, thou wilt be the death of me!" cried the old witch,convulsed with laughter. "That was well said. If an honest man and agentleman may! Thou playest thy part to perfection. Get along withthee for a smart fellow; and I will wager on thy head, as a man ofpith and substance, with a brain and what they call a heart, and allelse that a man should have, against any other thing on two legs. Ihold myself a better witch than yesterday, for thy sake. Did not Imake thee? And I defy any witch in New England to make such another!
Here; take my staff along with thee!"
The staff, though it was but a plain oaken stick, immediatelytook the aspect of a gold-headed cane.
"That gold head has as much sense in it as thine own," saidMother Rigby, "and it will guide thee straight to worshipful MasterGookin's door. Get thee gone, my pretty pet, my darling, my preciousone, my treasure; and if any ask thy name, it is Feathertop. Forthou hast a feather in thy hat, and I have thrust a handful offeathers into the hollow of thy head, and thy wig, too, is of thefashion they call Feathertop- so be Feathertop thy name!"And, issuing from the cottage, Feathertop strode manfully towardstown. Mother Rigby stood at the threshold, well pleased to see how thesunbeams glistened on him, as if all his magnificence were real, andhow diligently and lovingly he smoked his pipe, and how handsomelyhe walked, in spite of a little stiffness of his legs. She watched himuntil out of sight, and threw a witch benediction after her darling,when a turn of the road snatched him from her view.
