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- 144
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T07:57:45.581Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 90
- text
- THE APPLE-TREE TABLE
_OR ORIGINAL SPIRITUAL MANIFESTATIONS_
When I first saw the table, dingy and dusty, in the furthest corner
of the old hopper-shaped garret, and set out with broken, be-crusted
old purple vials and flasks, and a ghostly, dismantled old quarto, it
seemed just such a necromantic little old table as might have belonged
to Friar Bacon. Two plain features it had, significant of conjurations
and charms--the circle and tripod; the slab being round, supported by
a twisted little pillar, which, about a foot from the bottom, sprawled
out into three crooked legs, terminating in three cloven feet. A very
satanic-looking little old table, indeed.
In order to convey a better idea of it, some account may as well be
given of the place it came from. A very old garret of a very old house
in an old-fashioned quarter of one of the oldest towns in America.
This garret had been closed for years. It was thought to be haunted;
a rumor, I confess, which, however absurd (in my opinion), I did not,
at the time of purchasing, very vehemently contradict; since, not
improbably, it tended to place the property the more conveniently
within my means.
It was, therefore, from no dread of the reputed goblins aloft, that,
for five years after first taking up my residence in the house, I
never entered the garret. There was no special inducement. The roof
was well slated, and thoroughly tight. The company that insured the
house, waived all visitation of the garret; why, then, should the
owner be over-anxious about it?--particularly, as he had no use for
it, the house having ample room below. Then the key of the stair-door
leading to it was lost. The lock was a huge old-fashioned one. To
open it, a smith would have to be called; an unnecessary trouble, I
thought. Besides, though I had taken some care to keep my two daughters
in ignorance of the rumor above-mentioned, still, they had, by some
means, got an inkling of it, and were well enough pleased to see the
entrance to the haunted ground closed. It might have remained so for a
still longer time, had it not been for my accidentally discovering, in
a corner of our glen-like, old, terraced garden, a large and curious
key, very old and rusty, which I at once concluded must belong to the
garret-door--a supposition which, upon trial, proved correct. Now, the
possession of a key to anything, at once provokes a desire to unlock
and explore; and this, too, from a mere instinct of gratification,
irrespective of any particular benefit to accrue.
Behold me, then, turning the rusty old key, and going up, alone, into
the haunted garret. It embraced the entire area of the mansion. Its
ceiling was formed by the roof, showing the rafters and boards on
which the slates were laid. The roof shedding the water four ways from
a high point in the centre, the space beneath was much like that of
a general's marquee--only midway broken by a labyrinth of timbers,
for braces, from which waved innumerable cobwebs, that, of a summer's
noon, shone like Bagdad tissues and gauzes. On every hand, some strange
insect was seen, flying, or running, or creeping, on rafter and floor.
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