“Poor soul, indeed, why she beant got one. She sold it to old what’s-his-name long ago.”
“Eh, but it be very horrid, said the woman with the child; and I half wish I had not come to see her burned to death.”
“She won’t burn.”
“Nay,” said another, “it be very terrifying; but she’ll be dead ’fore they burn her, if they don’t be smart. Think of it, though: Mother Goodhugh going to be burned for a witch.”
“I don’t quite like the old woman to be burnt. How wist she looks!” said the young mother, as she stared at the preparations.
“Hold thy tongue, do,” said another; “the country be better without her.”
“Ay, it was time something was done now the holy father’s gone, and Parson Peasegood won’t do naught to exorcise the witch.”
“You went to him, didn’t a?”
“Ay, I went to him and told him o’ Mother Goodhugh’s doings, and how she put a spell on our cow, and evil-wished neighbour Lewin’s boy.”
“What did he say?”