Children's Classics in Dramatic Form, A Reader for the Fourth Grade

by Augusta Stevenson

GOODY. And what was that?

WICKED UNCLE. Just what I told him the first time I saw her. "She's a witch," said I, but he would not believe me.

GOODY. What has so changed him?

WICKED UNCLE. 'T was I who saw her slip forth from the castle one midnight. I followed her; straight to the graveyard she went.

GOODY. To the graveyard?

WICKED UNCLE (nodding). In she went—I following. I saw her gather the stinging nettles that grow there.

GOODY. But they would blister her hands. Did she not cry out?

WICKED UNCLE. Not a sound did she utter! That would prove her a witch, were there nothing more.

GOODY. Ah, there is something more, then?

WICKED UNCLE (nodding; mysteriously). I followed her back to the castle; through the marble halls and up to the little cave room. I saw her break up the nettles. Then I saw her spin and weave this flax into a magic coat.