Entry One (Descriptive): When Reverence John Hale walked into the room I had a feeling things were going to change in Salem. A middle-aged man, his eyes were eager and his intellect apparently keen from all the books in his arms. He seemed proud he had been called to determine the issue of witchcraft in our midst. He had an aura about him of someone determined to out wile the devil, who he stated was a wily one. I must confess my first response in greeting him was tinged with a bit of sarcasm over the nonsensical happenings in Salem. I told him ôI never spoke on witches one way or the otherö and when Giles spoke up I said, ôIÆve heard youÆre a sensible man, Mr. Hale. I hope youÆll leave some of it in Salem,ö (Miller 1995, 35). HaleÆs clothes were finely pressed and his skin was tight. He had eager eyes that seemed always on the prowl for evil that might very well be lurking anywhere. He rubbed me the wrong way right off the bat, as folks say, so I guess I provoked him when he first arrived. I hated the way he would hold up his hands and say ôlet me instruct youö, like he knew everything there was to know about the visible and invisible world (Miller 1995, 35). The way he spoke rang hollow in my ears and his speeches seemed like nothing more than an effort to prove how intelligent he was compared to everybody else.
Entry Two (Narrative): I tell you I had no idea after I scolded Mary Warren and Mercy Lewis how much grief Abigail was going to cause me. I was all alone with her and Betty was on my bed. She was up to her mischievous self, telling me about her dancing in the woods all night and giving me that winning smile and those wicked eyes of hers. Damn me but she was getting to me when I caught myself and told Abby she was ôwickedö (Miller 1995, 20). She began to grow upset when she accused me of giving her hope to wait for me. When I told her I wouldnÆt come f
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