What does a little Witch do for sore feet? She brews an ointment of toad-spawn and mouse-droppings, stirs in a handful of ground bats’ teeth and lets it cook through on the open fire. When she spreads this ointment on the sore places, muttering a spell out of the Book of Witchcraft at the same time, her feet heal in a few minutes.
“There, that’s all right!” said the little Witch in relief, when the spell and the ointment had done their work.
“Don’t you have to limp any more now?” asked Abraxas.
“See for yourself!” cried the little Witch. She danced barefoot round the witch’s house. Then she put on her shoes and stockings.
“Are you going out?” asked the raven in surprise.
“Yes. You can come too,” said the little Witch. “I’m going to the village.”
“It’s a long way,” said Abraxas. “Don’t forget you’ve lost your broomstick; you’ll have to walk.”
“That’s the point. I don’t want to have to walk any more. So as I don’t want to walk any more, I’ve got to walk into the village.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“Why? I want to buy a broomstick, if you don’t mind. That’s all.”
“That’s different,” said Abraxas. “Of course I’ll come too. Or you might go staying away for ages again!”
The path to the village went right through the wood, over gnarled roots and broken rocks, fallen trees and slopes covered with brambles. That didn’t worry Abraxas the raven much. He sat on the little Witch’s shoulder, and all he had to do was to take care that a branch didn’t hit him unexpectedly on the head. But the little Witch kept stumbling over roots and catching her clothes on the twigs.
“What a dreadful path!” she said time and again. “I shall be able to ride again soon, that’s the only comfort.”
They reached the village and went to see the shopkeeper, Baldwin Peppercorn.
Mr Peppercorn thought little of it when the little Witch and her raven came in at the door. He had never seen a witch before, so he took her for just an ordinary little old woman from one of the nearby villages.
They wished each other good day. “What can I do for you?” Mr Peppercorn asked kindly.
First the little Witch bought a quarter of a pound of peppermints. Then she held the bag under the raven’s beak, saying, “Help yourself!”
“Thank you very much!” croaked Abraxas.
Mr Peppercorn was most surprised. “What a clever bird!” he said in admiration. “What else would you like?” he went on.
“Do you sell brooms and brushes?” asked the little Witch.
“Certainly!” said Mr Peppercorn. “Handbrushes, kitchen brushes, birch brooms. And scrubbing brushes too, of course. Or perhaps you wanted a feather duster …”
“No thank you, I want a birch broom.”
“With or without broomstick?”
“With a stick,” said the little Witch. “The stick is the most important part. But it mustn’t be too short.”
“How about this one here?” Mr Peppercorn suggested helpfully. “I’m afraid brooms with longer sticks are out of stock just now.”
“I think it’s long enough,” said the little Witch. “I’ll take it.”
“Shall I wrap the broom up?” asked Mr Peppercorn. “It will be easier to carry if I put a bit of string round it.”
“That’s very kind of you,” said the little Witch. “But it doesn’t need wrapping up.”
“Just as you like.” Mr Peppercorn counted out the change and showed the little Witch to the door. “Good day, I am your most obedient –”
“Servant,” he was just going to add. But what he saw took his breath away.
He saw his customer put the broomstick between her legs. She muttered something, and whoosh! away flew the broomstick carrying her and the raven. Mr Peppercorn couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Heaven help me!” he thought. “Is something strange going on here – or am I dreaming?”
