"
"Girls, do be still."
"Girls, if you won't be still, somebody will come."
"Clarice Vigo, why don't you stop your noise?"
"Why do you not stop yours, mademoiselle?"
"I haven't spoken a word but sh! I have been trying my best to quiet
them all."
"So have I."
"Ellen Bond fell over me. She was scared to death by a screech-owl!"
"It was you fell over me, Miss Betsey."
"If we are going to try the charm," announced Peggy Morrison, "we must
begin. You had better all get in a line behind me and do just as I do.
You can't see me very well, but you can scatter the hempseed and say
what I say. And it must be done soberly, or Satan may come mowing at our
heels."
From a distant perch to which he had removed himself, the screech-owl
again remonstrated. Silence settled like the slow fluttering downward of
feathers on every throbbing figure. The stir of a slipper on the
pavement, or the catching of a breath, became the only tokens of human
presence in the old college. These postulants of fortune in their
half-visible state once more bore some resemblance to the young ladies
who had stood in decorum answering compliments between the figures of
the dance the night before.
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