Burns alludes to something like the spell above described:-- "Wee Jenny to her grannie says, 'will ye go wi' me, grannie, To eat an apple at the glass I got from Uncle Johnnie ?' She fuff't her pipe wi' sic a lunt, In wrath she was so vaporin', She noticed na an' azle brunt Her bran new worset apron.
"Ye little skelpan-limmer's face, How dare ye try sic sportin', An' seek the foul thief ony place For him to try your fortune?
Nae doubt but ye may get a sight; Great cause ye hae to fear it; For mony a one has gotten a fright, An' lived and died delecrit." It is not to be denied, and for truth's sake not to be regretted, that this amusing juvenile glammary has seen its best days in New England.
The schoolmaster has been abroad to some purpose.

Not without results have our lyceum lecturers and travels of Peter Parley brought everything in heaven above and in the earth below to the level of childhood's capacities.

In our cities and large towns children nowadays pass through the opening acts of life's marvellous drama with as little manifestation of wonder and surprise as the Indian does through the streets of a civilized city which he has entered for the first time.
Yet Nature, sooner or later, vindicates her mysteries; voices from the unseen penetrate the din of civilization.

The child philosopher and materialist often becomes the visionary of riper years, running into illuminism, magnetism, and transcendentalism, with its inspired priests and priestesses, its revelations and oracular responses.
But in many a green valley of rural New England there are children yet; boys and girls are still to be found not quite overtaken by the march of mind.

There, too, are huskings, and apple-bees, and quilting parties, and huge old-fashioned fireplaces piled with crackling walnut, flinging its rosy light over happy countenances of youth and scarcely less happy age.