"Naw ey noather," cried Ruchot o' Roaph's, crossing himself, and
spitting on the ground. "Owr Leady o' Whalley shielt us fro' t'
warlock!"

"Tawkin o' Nick Demdike," cried Hal o' Nabs, "yo'd a strawnge odventer
wi' him t' neet o' t' great brast o' Pendle Hill, hadna yo, Cuthbert?"

"Yeigh, t' firrups tak' him, ey hadn," replied Ashbead. "Theawst hear aw
abowt it if t' will. Ey wur sent be t' abbut down t' hill to Owen o'
Gab's, o' Perkin's, o' Dannel's, o' Noll's, o' Oamfrey's orchert i'
Warston lone, to luk efter him. Weel, whon ey gets ower t' stoan wa',
whot dun yo think ey sees! twanty or throtty poikemen stonding behint
it, an they deshes at meh os thick os leet, an efore ey con roor oot,
they blintfowlt meh, an clap an iron gog i' meh mouth. Weel, I con
noather speak nor see, boh ey con use meh feet, soh ey punses at 'em
reet an' laft; an be mah troath, lads, yood'n a leawght t' hear how they
roart, an ey should a roart too, if I couldn, whon they began to thwack
me wi' their raddling pows, and ding'd meh so abowt t' heoad, that ey
fell i' a swownd. Whon ey cum to, ey wur loyin o' meh back i' Rimington
Moor. Every booan i' meh hoide wratcht, an meh hewr war clottert wi'
gore, boh t' eebond an t' gog wur gone, soh ey gets o' meh feet, and
daddles along os weel os ey con, whon aw ot wunce ey spies a leet
glenting efore meh, an dawncing abowt loike an awf or a wull-o'-whisp.
Thinks ey, that's Friar Rush an' his lantern, an he'll lead me into a
quagmire, soh ey stops a bit, to consider where ey'd getten, for ey
didna knoa t' reet road exactly; boh whon ey stood still, t' leet stood
still too, on then ey meyd owt that it cum fro an owd ruint tower, an
whot ey'd fancied wur one lantern proved twanty, fo' whon ey reacht t'
tower an peept in thro' a brok'n winda, ey beheld a seet ey'st neer
forgit--apack o' witches--eigh, witches!--sittin' in a ring, wi' their