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The Children's Garland from the Best Poets

Part 2 — CLXIX

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A WITCH

Spoken by a Countryman

There's that old hag Moll Brown, look, see, just past! I wish the ugly sly old witch Would tumble over in the ditch; I wouldn't pick her out not very fast. I don't think she's belied, 'tis clear's the sun That she's a witch if ever there was one. Yes, I do know just hereabout of two Or three folk that have learnt what Moll can do. She did, one time, a pretty deal of harm To Farmer Gruff's folks, down at Lower Farm. One day, you know, they happen'd to offend her, And not a little to their sorrow, Because they would not give or lend her The thing she came to beg or borrow; And so, you know, they soon began to find That she'd a-left her evil wish behind. She soon bewitch'd them; and she had such power, That she did make their milk and ale turn sour, And addle all the eggs their fowls did lay; They couldn't fetch the butter in the churn, And cheeses soon began to turn All back again to curds and whey. The little pigs a-running with the sow Did sicken somehow, nobody knew how, And fall, and turn their snouts towards the sky, And only give one little grunt and die; And all the little ducks and chicken Were death-struck while they were a-pickin' Their food, and fell upon their head, And flapp'd their wings and dropp'd down dead. They couldn't fat the calves; they wouldn't thrive; They couldn't save their lambs alive; Their sheep all took the rot and gave no wool; Their horses fell away to skin and bones, And got so weak they couldn't pull A half a peck of stones; The dog got dead-alive and drowsy, The cat fell sick and wouldn't mousey; And if the wretched souls went up to bed The hag did come and ride them all half dead. They used to keep her out o' the house 'tis true, A-nailing up at door a horse's shoe; And I've a-heard the farmer's wife did try To drive a needle or a pin In through her old hard wither'd skin And draw her blood, a-coming by; But she could never fetch a drop, She bent the pin and broke the needle's top Against her skin, you know, and that, in course, Did only make the hag bewitch them worse.

W. Barnes

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