THE WITCH WOMAN’S WICKEDNESS

Waikato Times, Volume 118, Issue 19699, 5 October 1935, Page 16 (Supplement)

THE WITCH WOMAN’S WICKEDNESS

The Witch Woman was feeling very wicked; all winter-she had been kept prisoner with her broomstick worn out and the ground round her tree home too wet to venture out for sticks to make a new one. And now at last it was a little dryer and the Witch Woman could walk abroad, and as she peeped through the windows as she passed there was mischief in her sharp, sharp eyes. At last she came to the land of “Not Quite Spring,” where everybody was as busy as busy could be. There were fairy dressmakers making rainbowy frocks for the flower people and elfin tailors making mists of green for the willows, and tiny gnomes busy with the tiniest buds of all. And in one corner there were stacks and stacks of fresh green leaf dresses for the Tree People and everywhere was scurry and bustle for the Lady Spring was very nearly ready, she was just twining the last scented blossoms in her hair. Soon she would whisper shyly to the soft spring winds who were murmuring softly In their big oak trunk where they had spent the winter while the wild gales blew, and they would steal out and go through the wide bare world singing softly and bringing to mortals the scent of the warm brown earth and fresh green grass and the thousand faint, sweet hints of Spring. And then Spring would come laughing to the workroom, unbelievably beautiful with flowers in her hair and a halo -of sunshine about her head, the green of the willows in her trailing draperies strewm with pink tipped daisies, and her arms open wide for all the beauty ready for her to take with her. And every tiny thing must be quite, quite ready. The Witch Woman smiled evilly to herself as she drew from her capacious pocket a little packet of powder. Slyly she opened the window a little, and taking a huge breath she blew it in all over the busy workers. Then she smiled to herself, “No one will come near them,” she said, “they are far too busy for visitors, and Spring will be late. They will sleep for a week with that spell on them.” And chuckling to herself she went on her wicked way. But it so happened that Mr Archibald Ant had wakened from 'his winter sleep rather early, a week early in fact and was strolling happily out getting “curiouser and curiouser” at all the activity about him. As he passed Spring’s window'he took the tiniest little peep (for he was a very polite fellow), and saw the lovely lady almost,, ready. “I think I’ll bustle down to see how they are in the workroom,” said Mr Archibald Ant to himself and off he hurried. On the way, however, he found a very strange twig (or HE thought it was a twig). It shone very silver and shiny in the sunlight and had a very sharp end (mortals would have called it a pin). “I simply s must take this with, me,” thought Archibald Ant Esquire, “then if any mortals come digging about my new house they will be severely scratched. And so he was a little longer than he meant to be for the shiny twig was rather heavy for one small ant and very slippery. But when lie got there he was amazed. For not one person was working, they were all sound asleep. Archibald Ant looked at the clock. Only (me more dandelion clock day to go. “Hurry up all of you,” he cried loudly, and then more loudly, “Hurry up,” but not a single one woke. Archibald spent a quarter of a dandelion hour trying to wake them. He pushed them and called them and still they would not wake. Then he thought “this is a terrible plight, I must do something drastic,” and that was when he remembered the shiny twig. So feeling very sorry for them indeed he picked it up and went round each and every one and dug the sharp end in hard. There were squeaks of pain and annoyance, but Archibald Ant did not mind in the least lie had wakened them all. Shyly he told his story and what a clapping there was. And then everyone was busy again stitching, stitching, stitching. When Spring came at dawn (or so the dandelion clock said) everything was ready. She had soon heard the whole story from the excited fairy people,' and she smiled on him so sweetly that Archibald Ant went quite pink witli pleasure. Then she took the shiny twig from him and tapped him gently on the shoulder. Rise SIR Archibald Ant,” she said, and went drifting out Hie door with the soft Spring winds about her. “And what became or the Witch Woman ” you ask. Well nobody knows, hut she was never seen again in the land of “Not Quits Spring” or in Busy Street, so probably her wickedness brought her to a sad end. (Girl Guido Notes and Scout Nows will bo found on page 84.)