In ole formel times, when deh used to be kings an’ queens, deah wuz a king an’ queen hed on’y one darter. And dey stored dis darter like de eyes in deir head, an’ dey hardly would let de wind blow an her. Dey lived in a ’menjus big park, an’ one way of de park wuz a lodge-house, an’ de oder [[201]]en’ deah wuz a great moat of water. Now dis queen died an’ lef’ dis darter. An’ she wur a werry han’some gal—you ’ah sure she mus’ be, bein’ a queen’s darter.
In dis heah lodge-house deah wuz an ole woman lived. And in dem days deah wur witchcraft. An’ de ole king used to sont fur her to go up to de palast to work, an’ she consated herself an’ him a bit. So one day dis heah ole genleman wuz a-talking to dis ole woman, an’ de darter gat a bit jealous, an’ dis ole woman fun’ out dat de darter wuz angry, an’ she didn’t come anigh de house fur a long time.
Now de ole witch wuz larnin’ de young lady to sew. So she sont fur her to come down to de lodge-house afore she hed her breakfast. An’ de fust day she wents, she picked up a kernel of wheat as she wuz coming along, an’ eat it.
An’ de witch said to her, ‘Have you hed your breakfast?’
An’ she says, ‘No.’
‘Have you hed nothin’?’ she says.
‘No,’ she says, ‘on’y a kernel of wheat.’
She wents two marnin’s like dat, an’ picked up a kernel of wheat every marnin’, so dat de witch would have no powah over her—God’s grain, you know, sir. But de third marnin’ she on’y picked up a bit av arange peel, an’ den dis ole wise woman witchered her, an’ after dat she never sont fur her to come no more. Now dis young lady got to be big. An’ de witch wuz glad. So she goned to de king an’ she says, ‘Your darter is dat way. Now, you know, she’ll hev to be ’stry’d.’
‘What! my beautiful han’some darter to be in de fambaley way! Oh! no, no, no, et couldn’t be.’
‘But it can be so, an’ et es so,’ said de ole witch.