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Phoebe and the Witch

“May I come in Madam Witch?"
“Come in. The door’s open.” said the Masterwitch as she stirred the slimy disgusting concoction, that was bubbling in the black cauldron over the fire, with her wooden spoon.
The witch’s attention was focused on her concoction. Something wasn’t right. Maybe she hadn’t added enough donkey meat… She didn’t even turn round to see who it was. It would be the usual little fool wanting a potion to make the butcher’s boy fall in love, thought the witch, annoyed.
“Who are you? What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy? Go away. Come back tomorrow.”
“I’m Phoebe Madam Witch. I want to learn the spells, the magic potions and all the other tricks. Take me on.”
The witch heaved a sigh, turned to look at Phoebe and burst out laughing with a laugh that made the cat freeze.
“You would like to become a witch? With that angelic face and that voice of milk and honey? And how do you propose to become horrid and wicked like me?”
“I’ll be your assistant, obey your orders. I want to be ugly and evil like you.”
She’s just a stupid little girl, a whimsical dreamer, thought the witch. The village is full of silly good for nothings, one who wants to become an actress, another a singer or a dancer. This Phoebe seems to me to be the stupidest of the lot. I need to get rid of her right away. I’m not going to waste time on the little tart with a heart.
“Very well Phoebe, I’ll put you to the test. Take this saucepan and bring it back full of ants to roast. The anthill is out there, under the burnt tree.”
“Little ants Madam? That doesn’t really seem to me to be witch’s work.”

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