Christian spirit in which it is offered, I’m sorry. And now, good day to you, I must be on my way.”
“No, no, don’t go, I’ll come out,” screamed the voice. “I never seed an elephant.”
There was a long pause during which Adrian could hear various spells being muttered in the interior of the caravan, and then the door was opened a crack and a face like a walnut peered out, surrounded by straggling grey hair. It belonged to one of the tiniest old ladies that Adrian had ever seen. She looked, Adrian decided, exactly like a minute witch. She was dressed in a faded black velvet skirt, a tattered scarlet blouse and the had a thick black woollen shawl around her shoulders. She looked Adrian up and down, mumbling with her toothless gums.
“Good morning,” said Adrian.
“Well, where is it?” enquired the old lady.
Adrian gestured to where Rosy was standing, endeavouring to uproot a gorse bush under the mistaken impression that it was edible.
“Eeeeeeeee!” said the old lady, expelling her breath in a long gasp of wonder. “Did you ever? The size of it . . . did you ever?”
“She’s quite tame,” explained Adrian. “She was just scratching herself against your caravan.”
“I never seed anything like it,” said the old lady. “A wondrous beast . . . truly wondrous.”
“You wouldn’t, I suppose, be wanting an elephant for your type of . . . er . . . work?” asked Adrian hopefully.
“Work?” said the old lady, bristling indignantly. “I don’t work .”
She stumped into the caravan and reappeared carrying a board which she hung on a hook by the door.
“That’s me,” she said proudly, jerking a thumb at the board. “Finest witch in these parts.”
On the board was written in slightly shaky capitals the legend:
BLACK NELL THE WHITE WITCH
SPELLS. INCANTATIONS.
THE FUTURE AND PAST FORETOLD,
WARTS CURED.
“Oh,” said Adrian, surprised that the old lady had in fact turned out to be a witch. “How very interesting.”
“Yes,” said the old lady, “I’m on my way to the Tuttle-penny Faire is that where you’re going?”
“No, I’m on my way down to the coast,” raid Adrian. “As a matter of fact I’m not altogether sure where we are at the moment. Could you tell me the best way to go?”
“Bite of breakfast?” said Black Nell. “You can’t walk on an empty stomach.”
“It’s very kind of you,” said Adrian, “but I just had some breakfast.”
“Cold rabbit pie?” asked Black Nell. “Bit of cold rabbit pie, home-made bread and a mug of tea, eh?”
The thought of cold rabbit pie made Adrian’s mouth water.
“Well, if you’re quite sure you have enough,” he said.
“Plenty,” said Black Nell. “You get the fire a-going under the kettle and I’ll fetch the pie.”
So Adrian, Rosy and Black Nell sat down to have breakfast together. The pie was delicious the crust melting in the mouth, the chips of rabbit meat, pink or coral, embedded in jelly as brown as amber, redolent with herbs. Adrian decided that he had never eaten anything quite so delicious in his life, not even at Fenneltree Hall. After his third piece of pie he even started to view Rosy with a less jaundiced eye. Full of pie and hot tea he grew expansive and told Black Nell all about the trials and tribulations he had had since Rosy bad entered his life. To his surprise Black Nell thought it was one of the funniest things she had ever heard, and at his description of the ball she laughed until she cried, and Adrian, against his will, was forced to laugh too.
“Oh, my! Oh, my!” gasped Black Nell, holding her sides. “I wish I could have seed that.”
“Looking back on it, I must admit that it was rather funny,” said Adrian. “But I didn’t think it was funny at the time.”
Black Nell wiped her eyes still giving shrill hoots of laughter. Then she delved in her pocket and pulled out a pack of stained and greasy cards.
“Come along, come along,” she said, “I’ll tell your
“No, no, don’t go, I’ll come out,” screamed the voice. “I never seed an elephant.”
There was a long pause during which Adrian could hear various spells being muttered in the interior of the caravan, and then the door was opened a crack and a face like a walnut peered out, surrounded by straggling grey hair. It belonged to one of the tiniest old ladies that Adrian had ever seen. She looked, Adrian decided, exactly like a minute witch. She was dressed in a faded black velvet skirt, a tattered scarlet blouse and the had a thick black woollen shawl around her shoulders. She looked Adrian up and down, mumbling with her toothless gums.
“Good morning,” said Adrian.
“Well, where is it?” enquired the old lady.
Adrian gestured to where Rosy was standing, endeavouring to uproot a gorse bush under the mistaken impression that it was edible.
“Eeeeeeeee!” said the old lady, expelling her breath in a long gasp of wonder. “Did you ever? The size of it . . . did you ever?”
“She’s quite tame,” explained Adrian. “She was just scratching herself against your caravan.”
“I never seed anything like it,” said the old lady. “A wondrous beast . . . truly wondrous.”
“You wouldn’t, I suppose, be wanting an elephant for your type of . . . er . . . work?” asked Adrian hopefully.
“Work?” said the old lady, bristling indignantly. “I don’t work .”
She stumped into the caravan and reappeared carrying a board which she hung on a hook by the door.
“That’s me,” she said proudly, jerking a thumb at the board. “Finest witch in these parts.”
On the board was written in slightly shaky capitals the legend:
BLACK NELL THE WHITE WITCH
SPELLS. INCANTATIONS.
THE FUTURE AND PAST FORETOLD,
WARTS CURED.
“Oh,” said Adrian, surprised that the old lady had in fact turned out to be a witch. “How very interesting.”
“Yes,” said the old lady, “I’m on my way to the Tuttle-penny Faire is that where you’re going?”
“No, I’m on my way down to the coast,” raid Adrian. “As a matter of fact I’m not altogether sure where we are at the moment. Could you tell me the best way to go?”
“Bite of breakfast?” said Black Nell. “You can’t walk on an empty stomach.”
“It’s very kind of you,” said Adrian, “but I just had some breakfast.”
“Cold rabbit pie?” asked Black Nell. “Bit of cold rabbit pie, home-made bread and a mug of tea, eh?”
The thought of cold rabbit pie made Adrian’s mouth water.
“Well, if you’re quite sure you have enough,” he said.
“Plenty,” said Black Nell. “You get the fire a-going under the kettle and I’ll fetch the pie.”
So Adrian, Rosy and Black Nell sat down to have breakfast together. The pie was delicious the crust melting in the mouth, the chips of rabbit meat, pink or coral, embedded in jelly as brown as amber, redolent with herbs. Adrian decided that he had never eaten anything quite so delicious in his life, not even at Fenneltree Hall. After his third piece of pie he even started to view Rosy with a less jaundiced eye. Full of pie and hot tea he grew expansive and told Black Nell all about the trials and tribulations he had had since Rosy bad entered his life. To his surprise Black Nell thought it was one of the funniest things she had ever heard, and at his description of the ball she laughed until she cried, and Adrian, against his will, was forced to laugh too.
“Oh, my! Oh, my!” gasped Black Nell, holding her sides. “I wish I could have seed that.”
“Looking back on it, I must admit that it was rather funny,” said Adrian. “But I didn’t think it was funny at the time.”
Black Nell wiped her eyes still giving shrill hoots of laughter. Then she delved in her pocket and pulled out a pack of stained and greasy cards.
“Come along, come along,” she said, “I’ll tell your
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