Violet Jacob > Stories told by the miller

THE WITCH’S CLOAK
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clear as he told them of the countries he had
wandered in—the distant islands, the tropics,
the golden East. No one imagined he had
been so far afield, and his listeners wondered
how he had contrived to make such voyages,
for they knew that he was not rich and lived
very simply in the old house at the end of the
street. But everybody was enthralled; his life of
work, his modesty, his great age and wisdom
adorned him, in the eyes of his pupils and
the assembled guests, like the jewels of a
crown.
When the long speech was over he sat
down, leaning back in his chair under the laurel-
wreath, for the effort he had made was great.
The guests remained respectfully in their places ;
they saw that he was weary and would need
rest before he could listen to their congratula¬
tions. For a moment he closed his eyes, and
when he opened them, a wonderful change
seemed to have come over the scene before
him.
The green boughs that filled the hall and
the vases of flowers on the long tables were
changing before his failing sight. Instead of
the tall sheaves of roses a white forest was