"Yes."
"Um-m-m."
She puffed and gazed.
"You wouldn't like to see 'em shot?"
At this Benny stood speechless, and Fanny set up such a cry to go home that Benny was afraid he should have to take her away—that is, if the Witch would let him. He began to consider his chances. Still the more terrible the old Witch seemed, the more Benny wanted to see and hear her. He whispered to Fanny:
"She won't hurt you, Pettikins—she can't; I won't let her. Hush a minute, and see what I'm going to say to her!"
Fanny hushed a little, and Benny fixed an audacious gaze upon the Witch—or a gaze which he meant should be audacious. "What is the matter with you?" said he.
The old woman removed her pipe and sat holding it with her forefinger lapped over it like a hook.
"They call it 'exterminated,'" said she, pushing back the broad-brimmed, high-crowned man's hat that she wore, and showing her gray, ragged locks. "I'm exterminated. You don't know what that is, I s'pose?"
"Exterminated, ex-ter-min-ated," said Benny, scratching his head, "why, to—to—drive out—to—ah—put an end to—to—to—destroy utterly."