The Witch Man (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1922 Excerpt: ...from high on a hill. She knew that when the cat bird gave that cry the berries were darkening on some sun-warmed slope, just as when the red bird sang "wet-u wet-u " she knew that it was sure to rain, however blue the sky. When she had climbed to the cemetery, set on the fairest height in all the country-side, she set down her basket, looking thoughtfully at the little lattice-houses built above every grave. Five of her mother's children lay there, buried almost as soon as they were born. Daisies were blowing in the open spaces, and wild vines crept up the lattices. Under the lattice of a small new mound had been placed a broken tea-set and a doll in a red dress. The rains had beaten the doll into the ground. From this point Wilda could look down on Innessburg, gray and small in its dark company of mountains, a crumb in a giant's hand. Standing at the cliff's edge, her pink dress blowing about her, her sunbonnet pushed back from her face, she watched its faint semblances of life, its people moving slowly, its drowsy vehicles, its one or two factories in their haze of smoke. What were those cities like of which Mr. Felsinger had told her? They were not drab and quiet like Innessburg, she knew. Paris, for instance, would be like this June afternoon, all shine and color. It would have rosy steeples and radiant pavements and windows glinting like cut gems. London would be gloomy and blue like the mountains--like Nebo yonder. New York--she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. New York was a light in her eyes, a music in her ears. It was so close, a bright clamor through all her dreams, but she coula not envisage it as she could the others. New Orleans--Carthage--Venice, her spirit had visited these even before Felsinger had told her about them, bac...