T’ next tahm it’s mahn,
An’ mahn foor ivver mair.
This had to be repeated nine times, giving nine turns before repeating the lines, when the churn would be found to be all right. At least it would be quite clean, and that is needful for the making of good butter. The milk case was a much more difficult one to tackle. However, after Jonathan had consulted his almanack, and seen what direction and position the heavenly bodies were in—he was great on the planetary world—he advised the following: first, a good drench[38] must be given the cow, followed by gentle exercise; secondly, it was not to be milked to its full yield for nine days, but on the tenth, before seating herself to milk, Mary had to whisper in the cow’s ear, ‘Ah’s milking tha foor Peggy Flaunders.’ The cow would then yield its proper quantity. This pious fraud of deliberately whispering tarradiddles into the cow’s ear had to be continued indefinitely. On the other hand, if after having so whispered Mary drew no more milk than usual, Jonathan declared Peggy had nothing to do with the case, that she would be free from all suspicion of milking the cow at home by magic art, and that it was nothing ’neea warse ’an that t’ au’d coo war a larl bit oot o’ fettle, an’ wad mebbins cum roond iv a bit; if nut, sha mud git shut on’t sumhoo.’
On one occasion some sportsmen, coursing in the old close field at the top end of Marske, put up a hare, which was recognized as one the dogs had often tried unsuccessfully to capture. Peggy’s son was one of the company. The lad, it seems, had heard his mother say no hare could escape their black bitch, but he was to be very careful not to mention the fact, and never to slip it at one without her consent. In the excitement the lad disregarded his mother’s commands, and repeated what she had said. The black bitch was slipped, and, after an exciting chase, seized the hare by the haunch just as it was trying to enter Peggy’s worral hole[39]. On Peggy being examined, teeth-marks were found on a corresponding part of her body.
The Guisborough witch, Jane Grear, was perhaps more widely known than Peggy. She, like Peggy, was bitten by a dog, and bore the marks until the day of her death. She received her injuries when trying to jump through her own key-hole: it must have been either a very small hare she had turned herself into, or she must have owned an abnormally large key-hole; but this is a matter of detail. Whatever Jane may have been like in the decline of her life, in her youthful days she must have been quite a good-looking girl. There are two old rhymes still remembered, one of which tells of her various charms, perhaps a little too freely. So much into detail does it go, that only a few lines can possibly be given. The second recounts a mighty hunt which once took place.
Plump ez a suker[40] war Jinny when young,
Wi’ t’ waast an’ t’ bust[41] ov a queen;
T’ gallants an’ t’ bucks did all on ’em sweear
Sha beeat owt ’at ivver tha’d seen.