THE SILVER LAKE stories. 135

whether in the garden or in the house,
her heart would beat violently, and she
would run like lightning to find com-
pany, with her hands joined, her el-
bows supported upon her sides, and
her head sunk upon her breast. Every
object that she perceived in her way
appeared extraordinary; if she had
had the courage to look at them a
second time, she would have laughed
at her own folly.

One day she came into the parlor in
tears, and assured her mamma that she
had had the greatest trouble to escape
a hideous creature, who, with its great
arms extended, had been upon the