“Let’s run in and pick some, and run out quick,” whispered Mark.
“You stupid; she’d turn us into anything in a minute.”
“Well—shoot her first,” said Mark. “Take steady aim; John says if you draw their blood they can’t do anything. Don’t you remember, they stuck the last one with a prong.”
“Horrid cruel,” said Bevis.
“So it was,” said Mark; “but when you want gooseberries.”
“I wish we had some moly,” said Bevis; “you know, the plant Ulysses had. Mind before we start next time we must find some. Who knows what fearful magic people we might meet?”
“It was stupid not to think of it,” said Mark. “Do you know, I believe she’s a mummy.”
“Why?”
“She hasn’t moved; and I can’t see her draw her breath.”
“No more she does. This is a terrible place.”