Once More With Footnotes

cow."
     
                  William Poorchick awoke f rom his reverie on the milking stool and looked around the meadow, his hands still working the beast's teats.
     
                  There was a black pointy hat rising over the hedge. He gave such a start that he started to milk into his left boot.
     
                  "Gives plenty of milk, do es she?"
     
                  "Yes, Mistress Weatherwax!" William quavered.
     
                  "That's good. Long may she continue to do so, that's what I say. Good day to you."
     
                  And the pointy hat continued up the lane.
     
                  Poorchick stared after it. Then he grabbed the bucket and, squelchin g at every other step, hurried into the barn and yelled for his son. "Rummage! You get down here right now!" His son appeared at the hayloft, pitchfork still in his hand. "What's up, Dad?"
     
                  "You take Daphne down to the market right now, understand? "
     
                  " What ? But she's our best milker, Dad!"
     
                  "Was, son, was! Granny Weatherwax just put a curse on her! Sell her now before her horns drop off! "
     
                  " What'd she say, Dad?"
     
                  "She said ... she said ... 'Long may she continue to give milk' ..." Poorchick hesitated.
     
                  "D oesn't sound awfully like a curse, Dad," said Rummage. "I mean ... not like your gen'ral curse. Sounds a bit hopeful, really," said his son. "Well ... it was the way ... she ... said ... it ... "
     
                  " What sort of way, Dad? "
     
                  " Well ... like ... cheerfully. "
     
                  " You all right, Dad?"
     
                  "It was ... the way ..." Poorchick paused. "Well, it's not right," he continued. "It's not right! She's got no right to go around being cheerful at people! She's never cheerful! And my boot is full of milk!"
     
                 
     
                  Today Nanny Ogg was tak ing some time out to tend her secret still in the woods. As a still it was the best kept secret there could be, since everyone in the kingdom knew exactly where it was, and a secret kept by so many people must be very secret indeed. Even the king knew, an d knew enough to pretend he didn't know, and that meant he didn't have to ask her for any taxes and she didn't have to refuse. And every year at Hogswatch he got a barrel of what honey might be if only bees weren't teetotal. And everyone understood the sit u ation, no one had to pay any money, and so, in a small way, the world was a happier place. And no one was cursed until their teeth fell out.
     
                  Nanny was dozing. Keeping an eye on a still was a day-and-night job. But finally the sound of people repeatedly c alling her name got too much for her.
     
                  No one would come into the clearing, of course. That would mean admitting that they knew where it was. So they were blundering around in the surrounding bushes. She pushed her way through and was greeted with some lo oks of feigned surprise that would have done credit to any amateur dramatic company.
     
                  "Well, what do you lot want?" she demanded.
     
                  "Oh, Mrs. Ogg, we thought you might be ... taking a walk in the woods," said Poorchick, while a scent that could clean glas s wafted on the breeze. "You got to do something! It's Mistress Wetherwax!"
     
                  "What's she done?"
     
                  "You tell 'er, Mr. Hampicker!"
     
                  The man next to Poorchick took off his hat quickly and held it respectfully in front of him in the ai-se ñ or-the-bandidos-hav e-raided-our-villages position.
     
                  "Well, ma'am, my lad and I were digging for a well and then she come past — "
     
                  "Granny Weatherwax?"
     
                  "Yes'm, and she said — " Hampicker gulped, " 'You won't find any water there, my good man. You'd be better off looking in t he hollow by the chestnut tree'! An' we dug on down anyway and we never found no water!"
     
                  Nanny lit her pipe. She didn't smoke around the still since that time when a careless spark had sent the