The Witch Family (5 page)

Little Witch Girl spelled it "hulie-bulie," so she got it wrong. This was the only word that she spelled wrong, however, so she was good in this subject also. "Someday," the teacher promised her, "we shall have a spelling bee."

"I have one already," said the little witch girl without thinking.

"Rude. Stand in corner with hat off for five minutes," said the teacher.

Of course, the teacher did not realize that the little witch girl was referring to Malachi, and Little Witch Girl had more sense than to explain. She bore her punishment unflinchingly. During this five minutes the other little witch girls were permitted to stomp again. This teacher believed in plenty of exercise.

Again the little witch girls stomped up to Little Witch Girl, and they pulled her long, light hair, and they said they did not like her hair because it was not spiky and black. They tweaked her nose, and they stepped on her toes, trying to make her say, "Ee-eek!" She did not say "Ee-eek!" She remained staunch, and she still did not flinch. But she had had enough of the stomping. Very quietly, she whispered, "Malachi, oh, Malachi," and the rest of the rune.

"Ow, ow!" said the first stomping witch girl. "Something has bitten me."

The same thing happened to each stomping witch girl, and they stopped stomping and tweaking and saying, "Tish!" in Little Witch Girl's face immediately.

"Teacher," complained Olie. "Something bit me!"

"And me," said Tweet.

"And me," said all the others. "Ow-ow," they said. "Something has bitten us." And all returned to their copy stools to compare bites.

The witch teacher peered closely at the little witch girls' hands to see the bites. "I don't see any bites," she said.

"Well, I wish you could feel them," said the rude girl, Olie. Olie had to stand in the corner for five minutes with her hat off for punishment. There she stood, blowing petulantly on her hand.

"Now," said the witch teacher. "Next lesson, witchiplication. And no more complaining about bites or you will all have to stand in the corner with your hats off, that is, all except Hannah," she said. "She has uttered no complaints."

The little witch girls surveyed the newcomer with extreme distaste. "Pet," they croaked.

Witchiplication is a very hard and important subject for witches. It deals with magic. Poison apples, poison brew, love potions, warts—taking them off, and warts—putting them on, thihgs that creep and crawl, forebodings, these were some of the main runes of the subject. It was Little Witch Girl's favorite study, and though it was difficult, she always got A. P. in it, which means absolutely perfect.

The other little witches, nursing their bites, were feeling cross. Little Witch Girl had not got one bite, they noticed. But each one of them got a bite every time she was about to tweak Little Witch Girl's nose or pull her hair. They had not taken in the fact that Little Witch Girl was in charge of the bites, or they would have been more respectful. They certainly would not have tried what they were now about to try. After a whispered consultation, they had resolved to show off their witchiplication and cast spells on Little Witch Girl. They were going to take turns.

First came Olie. She marched thrice around the new little witch girl and sang a throaty, raucous rune. The purpose of this rune was to ensnare the little witch girl in spiderwebs. But before the spiders came, Little Witch Girl quickly said her counteracting magical Malachi rune. Olie fell back instantly, stung in three places. "Ouch!" she said.

Matters fared no better for the other little witches. The twins, who were the last ones to try to cast a spell on Little Witch Girl, recited a twin witchiplication, called a witchiplication-witchiplication, a powerful one intended just for twins. But, "Ouch! Ouch!" they too had to say, having received twin, rather than single, bites all over them.

Then, all the witch girls understood the magical connection between the bites and the new little witch girl. And when they heard a buzzing voice spell the words, "
BEE-HOOVES YE TO BEEHAVE
," they curtsied in respect.

Little Witch Girl had been sitting very tensely on her little copy stool throughout this ordeal. Now, however, she was absolutely certain that the powerful magic of Malachi was stronger than that of any of the witch girls and that she would be quite safe.

The other little witch girls, all with bites that did not show but that stung nevertheless, now conceived a great admiration for the new girl. They swung completely around. They resolved to put an end to their teasing, to stop their stomping, and they decided to like her, knowing how excellent she was in witchiplication.

"She's brilliant!" they exclaimed, and clapped their hands.

Little Witch Girl stood up, took a bow, and received a double A. P. from the teacher. The teacher appraised the little witch girl with approval. She could see that the new little witch was going to be more than able to take care of herself. Thoughtfully, she examined the bites again that she could not see. "Maybe it's an epidemic," suggested the teacher brightly. "School will have to close."

So, in honor both of the brilliant new pupil and the epidemic of invisible bee bites, she dismissed the class.

The cardinal bird was waiting on the windowsill to conduct the little witch girl home. Amy had told him always to do this so that the little witch girl would not get lost again. And now, he sped to the glass hill, leading the way home.

Old Witch, who had spent the morning searching for the lost Malachi rune, to no avail, welcomed her with a snack of herbs. "Well," she said amiably. "How did you make out?"

"Fine," said Little Witch Girl with a yawn.

Then Little Witch Girl sat down in her red rocker and rocked. She thought about the two girls she had seen this morning in the high brick house on Garden Lane. And she thought about school. She wished she could play with those two girls in the window. She was sure that they would not stomp.

"Gammer?" she said. It was her new, affectionate way of speaking to Old Witch.

"Eh?" croaked Old Witch.

"Could I go down to Garden Lane and play with two witch girls I saw down there?"

"What!" croaked Old Witch. You would think Little Witch Girl was deaf with a cold, like Amy and Clarissa, Old Witch screamed so. "What!" she said. "Why, they be not witch girls. They be real regular girls. They be Amy and Clarissa, the ones I told you about last night. They be my banquishers! You must not go down there again. Or I may be not able to hurly-burly on Halloween. That's what 'em said, 'em did. Oh, to glory be!"

Old Witch was so upset, her abracadabra worked without her bidding it to. Wind blew and thunder rumbled. Rain and hail also fell. Old Witch was about to do the frightening backanally dance but changed her mind when she received a bite.

Down below, on Garden Lane, Amy and Clarissa put away their drawings.

"That's good," admired Clarissa.

"So's yours," said Amy.

"I see you added a bee and a bird," said Clarissa.

"Yes," said Amy. "The red bird is my missionary. The bumblebee (that's Malachi, the bumblebee—he's gone from the backyard, you know) is my representatiff. I selected him."

Living in Washington, D.C., Amy knew about the House of Representatives, and had even visited it. Also the Senate.

"Your what?" asked Clarissa, putting her hand behind her ear.

"Representatiff!" said Amy clearly.

Suddenly the wind whisked her drawing across the room. "O-o-oh!" she said. "Hear the thunder! That is thunder, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Clarissa. "And hail!" she said.

They both tore downstairs to find Amy's mother. It is nice to be with a mother in the hail.

One day, Old Witch was very busy up on the bare and bleak glass hill, preparing for her little witch girl's birthday party. It was to be a surprise party, and the first one that the little witch girl had ever had in her life, however long or short that may have been. Amy said she stayed six years old all the time, so it is hard to tell the total.

Amy was talking to Clarissa about Little Witch Girl's birthday right now as she and Clarissa sat drawing at the little table. "You know," Amy said, "that the little witch girl stays six all the time, don't you?"

"Stays six!" shouted Clarissa, who was still a little deaf from her cold. "If she stays six all the time, doesn't she ever have a birthday?"

"What are you shouting for?" asked Amy. Amy was over her cold and was not deaf anymore, and had not known that she had ever been a little deaf anyway. "Of course, she has birthdays. You have birthdays whether you stay six or not, don't you?"

"What did you say?" asked Clarissa.

"What's the matter? You deaf or something? I said, of course you have birthdays whether you stay six or not."

"Oh, of course. I forgot. When is her birthday?"

"When? Today. Today is her sixth birthday."

"I thought she was six already. Why won't she be seven? First comes six. And then comes seven."

"Because she stays six, that's why. She stays six years old all the time. Like her cat. He stays six weeks old all the time (I wish ours would) and like Patricia, who stays two." (Patricia was Amy's doll that she put to bed every night and took everywhere with her, her best-beloved doll.) "Patricia came two and she stays two."

"Stays two?" asked Clarissa, cocking her head. "I thought you said, stays six."

"The witch girl stays six!" shouted Amy. "Do you hear me?"

"Yes, stays six. Thought you said, stays two. It's her birthday, but she stays six. That's fair."

"Yes," said Amy. "Stays six always."

"If it's her birthday today, and she stays six—same old thing—doesn't she ever have a birthday party?"

"Yes. She is having a party. Today."

"I wish we could go," said Clarissa, who loved parties, especially the ice cream and the cake.

"Well," said Amy, who was not fond of parties and did not like blowouts, loud singing of "Happy Birthday to You," clapping, or squealing, "we're not witches," she said. "So, we can't go." Amy went on coloring her picture of a witch birthday party. After a thoughtful pause, she said, "I don't think we can. I'm not sure..."

"I suppose they can't have any cake at that party," said Clarissa.

"Oh, yes, Old Witch makes it out of herbs. That's what she's probably doing right now, making herb cake."

Amy was right. That was what Old Witch was doing right then. She prepared herb cake, with herb candles on it, herb-ade (on the order of lime punch) to drink, and rosemary (an herb) ice cream. Next she decorated the witch house with charms, rabbits' feet, miniature black cats (not real ones), baby lizards (real ones), weeny hoppy toads (real ones), and tiny broomsticks. Little witch girls love these things very much—the more the merrier. They squeal with as much delight over hoppy toads and lizards as real little girls do over balloons and lollipops. Then, employing an unusual and complicated abracadabra, Old Witch made everything completely invisible.

Old Witch had invited all the little witches of the witch school. The party was to begin at four o'clock, right after school. While waiting for the little witches to come home, Old Witch spent her time, as she always did lately when she had the chance, looking for the bumblebee and for the lost rune, and wracking her brains to recall how that rune had gone. She sang, as she looked, a little tune that she had made up:

"In-betwixt and in-between
Now, today, and Halloween
The bee must go for once and all
E'er one more bite doth me befall."

Meanwhile, at school, a great deal of twittering was going on among the little witch girls. They were making an effort to keep the party a surprise for Little Witch Girl, but their secret whisperings made Little Witch Girl wonder whether stomping and tweaking were going to begin all over again. "Thank goodness for Malachi!" she thought. She had not guessed that this was her birthday, and the little witches, filled with joyous anticipation at being invited to the house of exile of the famous Head Witch, did not give her a clue as to the reason for their high spirits.

So, when school was over, the little witch girl, thinking that this was a day as any other, followed the cardinal home. Had she looked back, she would have been very surprised to see the flock of little witches flying not far behind, but Little Witch Girl did not think to do so.

Old Witch, still humming "In-betwixt and in-between, " greeted her hurriedly. "Come, my dearie dear," she said. "Put on your best dress."

"Why?" asked Little Witch Girl.

"You'll see," said Old Witch.

"No," said Little Witch Girl. "It's playtime."

"I'll grantify a wish for you," wheedled Old Witch. "Grantify" is a word Amy made up. It means "grant" and "gratify" at once.

Little Witch thought for a moment before answering. Then her face brightened up. "Oh yes, all right," she said.

So, Little Witch Girl put on her pretty, best soft black witch dress. Then she said. "You know what I wish?"

"What?" said Old Witch, croaking fondly and softly. "I'll grantify whatever wish you wish," she said rashly.

"Well, my wish is—now, remember, you promised—for those two real girls, Amy and Clarissa, to come and play with me. Because I'm lonesome. And because I like them."

"Tcluck! Tcluck!" Old Witch groaned. A real witch wish—a witch wish for a million hoppy toads, perhaps—was what she had expected a little witch girl to wish. A witch can never have enough hoppy toads. "Oh, to glory be!" she said. "They banquished me, they did." Then she said firmly, "No! Anything but that!"

"You said
anything
," said the little witch girl. "You can't break your promise."

"I can," said Old Witch. "And I am," she said. "I'm bee-reaking," said Old Witch, growing slightly confused (she meant 'breaking'), "my promise right now."

At this moment, fortunately for Old Witch, who was thus saved another bee bite, the clock struck four. Partytime! Wind sprang up and wailed. Thunder rumbled. Hailstones bounced against the glass hill. These are the exciting weather conditions under which witch parties always begin. "In thunder, lightning, and in rain!" Old Witch had read these words in a book once, and she knew that they were true.