When Robert saw this, he turned the discourse, and did endeavor to divert her mind in such sort that the shade of melancholy soon left her sweet face, and the twain talked together cheerfully as had been their wont, and as became their years and conditions.
July 6.
Yesterday a strange thing happened in the meeting-house.

The minister had gone on in his discourse, until the sand in the hour-glass on the rails before the deacons had wellnigh run out, and Deacon Dole was about turning it, when suddenly I saw the congregation all about me give a great start, and look back.

A young woman, barefooted, and with a coarse canvas frock about her, and her long hair hanging loose like a periwig, and sprinkled with ashes, came walking up the south aisle.
Just as she got near Uncle Rawson's seat she stopped, and turning round towards the four corners of the house, cried out: "Woe to the persecutors! Woe to them who for a pretence make long prayers! Humble yourselves, for this is the day of the Lord's power, and I am sent as a sign among you!" As she looked towards me I knew her to be the Quaker maiden, Margaret Brewster.

"Where is the constable ?" asked Mr.
Richardson.

"Let the woman be taken out." Thereupon the whole congregation arose, and there was a great uproar, men and women climbing the seats, and many crying out, some one thing and some another.