"He had aise in three minutes; but he wur cured with a good name. I'll tell 'ee nother. You do knaw when you wur a cheeld you had a great thorn in ye arm through fallin' off a hedge, and you comed to me, and I charmed it and cured 'ee?"
"Very well."
"Well, I'll tell 'ee the charm:—
Christ was of a Virgin born,
And He was prick'd by a thorn,
And it did never throb nor swell,
And I trust in Jesus this never will.
Christ was crowned with thorns;
The thorns did bleed but did not rot.
No more shall thy finger,
In the name of Father, Son and Holy Ghost.
I could not help a creepy feeling coming over me as she uttered the words. I remembered her charming the place where the thorn had been and rubbing some ointment over it, and I also remember how quickly I had ease.
"So, my deer," she went on, "tedn't always a bad power that witches have."
"Well," I said at length, "have you asked me to come in here in order that you might tell me this?"
"Not all, my deer. I've wa'anted to show 'ee as ow I've got power, Maaster Roger, and that tedn't oal bad. And I want 'ee to harken to me so that you may not have the Trewinion's curse."
"Can you stop it?" I asked.