Anything went down with me, as it does with most of us.

Too late we know the good from bad; the knowledge is no pleasure then; being memory's medicine rather than the wine of hope.
Now Mother Melldrum kept her winter in this vale of rocks, sheltering from the wind and rain within the Devil's Cheese-ring, which added greatly to her fame because all else, for miles around, were afraid to go near it after dark, or even on a gloomy day.

Under eaves of lichened rock she had a winding passage, which none that ever I knew of durst enter but herself.

And to this place I went to seek her, in spite of all misgivings, upon a Sunday in Lenten season, when the sheep were folded.
Our parson (as if he had known my intent) had preached a beautiful sermon about the Witch of Endor, and the perils of them that meddle wantonly with the unseen Powers; and therein he referred especially to the strange noise in the neighbourhood, and upbraided us for want of faith, and many other backslidings.

We listened to him very earnestly, for we like to hear from our betters about things that are beyond us, and to be roused up now and then, like sheep with a good dog after them, who can pull some wool without biting.