I had indeed all along
suspected the thorn of being one of this order of mysterious trees; and
from other experiences I had met with, one some years ago in a village
in this same county of Wilts, I had formed the opinion that in many
persons the sense of a strange intelligence and possibility of power in
such trees is not a mere transitory state but an enduring influence
which profoundly affects their whole lives.
Determined to find out something more, I went to other villagers, mostly
women, who are more easily disarmed and made to believe that you too
know and are of the same mind with them, being under the same mysterious
power and spell. In this way, laying many a subtle snare, I succeeded in
eliciting a good deal of information. It was, however, mostly of a kind
which could not profitably be used in any inquiry into the subject; it
simply went to show that the feeling existed and was strong in many of
the villagers. During this inquiry I picked up several anecdotes about a
person who lived in Ingden close upon three generations ago, and was
able to piece them together so as to make a consistent narrative of his
life. This was Johnnie Budd, a farm labourer, who came to his end in
1821, a year or so before my old friend Malachi was born.
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