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Updated: June 6, 2025
He stood to the bar scratching his 'ead and staring, but he couldn't understand it a bit till a man wot was too late to sell his ha'penny up and told 'im all about it. The fuss 'e made was terrible. The shillings was in a little heap on a shelf at the back o' the bar, and he did all sorts o' things to 'em to prove that they was bad, and threatened Joe Barlcomb with the police.
One thing was she was always making fun of people, and for another she seemed to be able to tell their thoughts, and that don't get anybody liked much, especially when they don't keep it to theirselves. She'd been a lady's maid all 'er young days, and it was very 'ard to be taken for a witch just because she was old. "Fine day, ma'am," ses Joe Barlcomb. "Very fine," ses Mrs. Prince.
In less than a week arter that three of his young 'uns was down with the measles, and, 'is wife being laid up, he sent for 'er mother to come and nurse 'em. It's as true as I sit 'ere, but that pore old lady 'adn't been in the house two hours afore she went to bed with the yellow jaundice. Joe Barlcomb went out of 'is mind a'most.
Joe Barlcomb was everything at fust, but when they got to 'ear that his perliteness was because 'e thought 'arf of 'em was witches, and didn't know which 'arf, they altered their minds. In a month or two he was the laughing-stock of the place; but wot was worse to 'im than that was that he'd made enemies of all the old ladies.
His wife went off grumbling, and then Bill told Joe Barlcomb to hurry up wot he'd got to say as 'e 'adn't got much on and the weather wasn't as warm as it might be. "I sold you a shilling for a ha'penny last night, Bill," ses Joe. "Do you want to sell any more?" ses Bill Jones, putting his 'and down to where 'is trouser pocket ought to be. "Not exactly that," ses Joe Barlcomb.
It's a very bad thing to come to a witch for advice and then not to do as she tells you. You ought to know that." "I'll do it, ma'am," ses Joe Barlcomb, trembling. "You'd better," ses Mrs. Prince; "and mind not a word to anybody."
"This time I want you to sell me a shilling for a ha'penny." Bill leaned out of the winder and stared down at Joe Barlcomb, and then he ses, in a choking voice, "Is that wot you've come disturbing my sleep for at this time o' night?" he ses. "I must 'ave it, Bill," ses Joe. "Well, if you'll wait a moment," ses Bill, trying to speak perlitely, "I'll come down and give it to you."
Then those that could read took up the bottle and read it out loud all over agin. "Pore Bill," ses Peter Lamb. "I 'ad a feeling come over me that something was wrong." "You're a murderer," ses Sam Martin, catching 'old of Joe Barlcomb. "You'll be 'ung for this. Look at pore Bill, cut off in 'is prime." "Run for the doctor," ses someone.
Then he listened to his 'art, and in a puzzled way smelt at the bottle, which Jasper Potts was a-minding of, and wetted 'is finger and tasted it. "Somebody's been making a fool of you and me too," he ses, in a angry voice. "It's only gin, and very good gin at that. Get up and go home." It all came out next morning, and Joe Barlcomb was the laughing-stock of the place. Most people said that Mrs.
One thing was she was always making fun of people, and for another she seemed to be able to tell their thoughts, and that don't get anybody liked much, especially when they don't keep it to theirselves. She'd been a lady's maid all 'er young days, and it was very 'ard to be taken for a witch just because she was old. "Fine day, ma'am," ses Joe Barlcomb. "Very fine," ses Mrs. Prince.
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