07-13-2022, 04:52 PM
There are long-dead philosophers -and even the occasional live one, who would certainly elucidate on the scene Clem Willard
was now witnessing as he saw the approaching little bare-footed woman gazing thoughtfully down at the dried-dirt track that
led to his home. Maybe those deep-thinkers -which sadly would not include Clem Willard, would postulate that the fleeting
tableau was a depiction of what Miss Powler had recently experienced in Silas Mann's emporium and the culprit she believed
had been responsible of it.
Peggy Powler seemed so immersed with her introspection that the fair-haired youngster wondered if she'd actually noticed the
scampering weasel that quickly navigated across the Witch's path and slunk away into the tall grasses he now sat in. However,
honesty demands the young Willard lad would have to admit that he wouldn't be able to tell due to Peggy's large hat that hid
most of her down-turned face.
"Whey' yer' bugger..." the Last Witch of Underhill cussed softly around the dwindling boiled-sweet in her mouth as she brooded
on her time inside Silas Mann's General Store. "...Even on holiday, Ah' canna' have a candlewick's peace from the scallywags"
she murmured and ignored the scurrying polecat in front of her.
.................................................................
The woman -who'd introduced herself to the shop's owner as Muriel Gump and suggested to the day-dreaming Peggy that
the day was pleasant, had left the General Store only a few minutes after entering with the actual item that the little visitor
to Seamarshes had been looking at. Did this particular act -more than the odd revelation she'd discovered later, have a
bearing on what Peggy would later discover and why she was now returning to speak to the Willard boy...?
With a slight frown, the musing sorceress filed the question in the 'Pending Shelf' in her brain for future perusal. Noting
that the subject of her reason to retrace her steps back towards the reedbeds was waiting for her, Peggy felt the pieces of
another strange jigsaw beginning to be placed on the table. There was more to this than just a mesmerised store owner
pleased with a sale for the price of a sea pebble and a kid looking pissed-off due to a similar object.
.................................................................
"Good day, Ma'am and how can I..." Silas Mann faltered as he surveyed the tiny unshod woman in the grubby poncho
entering his premises. "...How can I help you on this fine morn?" he urged himself to continue and sighing softly for being
in this situation, took solace in his earlier transaction. Miss Gump had made his day with her purchase of the red dress
and to the brushy-moustached shop-owner now looking down at this ragamuffin, he believed that like most good events
in life, a positive had to be paid for with a negative. That contrary was now standing in the doorway of his store.
The doubtful customer doffed her large hat and introduced her along with her usual greeting, a gesture that had served
Peggy well in the past. By the look on the skinny man's face, the Witch's introduction delivered once more.
Silas nervously pulled at the elastic sleeve-bands as he realised who was standing before him and with a smile that never
reached his eyes, quickly moved to grab a straight-back wooden chair that he used when selling shoes. "I apologise for
not recognising you, Miss Powler... the way the sun shines in through my door can often obscure my view of those who
kindly honour my business with their presence" he mewled as he brushed non-existent dust from the canvas seat.
Peggy gazed around the large commodity-filled room as Mr Mann scurried behind his counter and with a finger-comb of
his face-hair, presented his best accommodating grin. "I'm lucky to be able to sell all sorts of items a noted traveller and
crusader of the ethereal like yourself would find commodious and of course, the price would reflect my admiration for
your champion work" he burbled out without breathing. The Witch glanced at the empty hook where the red dress had
hung as she dismissed the chair as being to high for her without showing a little more than a bit of leg.
"Yer've a fine set-up here, Mister Mann and Ah must admit, me-curiosity te' view such a bounty of wares was the only
reason fur' steppin' in te' yer' shop..." his single patron admitted. "...But Ah' now see yon jar of delights may have called
to me-weak spirit, Sir". Silas' skittish eyes darted to the shelf near where the recently-sold garment had idled and there,
a large glass container filled with peppermint-flavoured Black-Bullets waited for the Witch with a sweet-tooth.
Scuttling to minister service and provide a reason for the woman who could turn people into broomsticks to leave, Silas
wondered if giving the candies to the scary Witch for free would be expedient to having any such spell being broached.
Yet, as he hastily passed the waiting wizard and reached up for the rock-hard boiled-treats, Peggy did publish some
majick in the form of her little wiggling finger, something she still wasn't sure why, even after she'd left the shop.
.................................................................
The afternoon was well underway as she waved towards Clem Willard and shook the perplexities of her deliberations
from her head. Why did Silas Mann sell a perfectly-nice silk dress for the price of a dull pebble that -even after Peggy
quietly closed the door behind her, the store-owner still believed was a sapphire? Approaching the blonde young man
with disquiet on his mind, the little candy-sucking spell-worker also wondered what glammer had this puzzling Muriel
Gump embraced to perform such an act?
"Hello Clem..." Peggy said easily and held out a small paper packet with the Black-Bullets inside, "...divna' tell me, yer'
couldn't live without me" she added jocularly. But peering at the boy's doleful features, it was obvious to the grin-fading
sorceress that the jest had failed. "Miss Powler..." Clem whispered and gazed over to where the faint footmarks of the
weasel still lay in the dust, "...have you ever heard of Gretna Grindylow?"
was now witnessing as he saw the approaching little bare-footed woman gazing thoughtfully down at the dried-dirt track that
led to his home. Maybe those deep-thinkers -which sadly would not include Clem Willard, would postulate that the fleeting
tableau was a depiction of what Miss Powler had recently experienced in Silas Mann's emporium and the culprit she believed
had been responsible of it.
Peggy Powler seemed so immersed with her introspection that the fair-haired youngster wondered if she'd actually noticed the
scampering weasel that quickly navigated across the Witch's path and slunk away into the tall grasses he now sat in. However,
honesty demands the young Willard lad would have to admit that he wouldn't be able to tell due to Peggy's large hat that hid
most of her down-turned face.
"Whey' yer' bugger..." the Last Witch of Underhill cussed softly around the dwindling boiled-sweet in her mouth as she brooded
on her time inside Silas Mann's General Store. "...Even on holiday, Ah' canna' have a candlewick's peace from the scallywags"
she murmured and ignored the scurrying polecat in front of her.
.................................................................
The woman -who'd introduced herself to the shop's owner as Muriel Gump and suggested to the day-dreaming Peggy that
the day was pleasant, had left the General Store only a few minutes after entering with the actual item that the little visitor
to Seamarshes had been looking at. Did this particular act -more than the odd revelation she'd discovered later, have a
bearing on what Peggy would later discover and why she was now returning to speak to the Willard boy...?
With a slight frown, the musing sorceress filed the question in the 'Pending Shelf' in her brain for future perusal. Noting
that the subject of her reason to retrace her steps back towards the reedbeds was waiting for her, Peggy felt the pieces of
another strange jigsaw beginning to be placed on the table. There was more to this than just a mesmerised store owner
pleased with a sale for the price of a sea pebble and a kid looking pissed-off due to a similar object.
.................................................................
"Good day, Ma'am and how can I..." Silas Mann faltered as he surveyed the tiny unshod woman in the grubby poncho
entering his premises. "...How can I help you on this fine morn?" he urged himself to continue and sighing softly for being
in this situation, took solace in his earlier transaction. Miss Gump had made his day with her purchase of the red dress
and to the brushy-moustached shop-owner now looking down at this ragamuffin, he believed that like most good events
in life, a positive had to be paid for with a negative. That contrary was now standing in the doorway of his store.
The doubtful customer doffed her large hat and introduced her along with her usual greeting, a gesture that had served
Peggy well in the past. By the look on the skinny man's face, the Witch's introduction delivered once more.
Silas nervously pulled at the elastic sleeve-bands as he realised who was standing before him and with a smile that never
reached his eyes, quickly moved to grab a straight-back wooden chair that he used when selling shoes. "I apologise for
not recognising you, Miss Powler... the way the sun shines in through my door can often obscure my view of those who
kindly honour my business with their presence" he mewled as he brushed non-existent dust from the canvas seat.
Peggy gazed around the large commodity-filled room as Mr Mann scurried behind his counter and with a finger-comb of
his face-hair, presented his best accommodating grin. "I'm lucky to be able to sell all sorts of items a noted traveller and
crusader of the ethereal like yourself would find commodious and of course, the price would reflect my admiration for
your champion work" he burbled out without breathing. The Witch glanced at the empty hook where the red dress had
hung as she dismissed the chair as being to high for her without showing a little more than a bit of leg.
"Yer've a fine set-up here, Mister Mann and Ah must admit, me-curiosity te' view such a bounty of wares was the only
reason fur' steppin' in te' yer' shop..." his single patron admitted. "...But Ah' now see yon jar of delights may have called
to me-weak spirit, Sir". Silas' skittish eyes darted to the shelf near where the recently-sold garment had idled and there,
a large glass container filled with peppermint-flavoured Black-Bullets waited for the Witch with a sweet-tooth.
Scuttling to minister service and provide a reason for the woman who could turn people into broomsticks to leave, Silas
wondered if giving the candies to the scary Witch for free would be expedient to having any such spell being broached.
Yet, as he hastily passed the waiting wizard and reached up for the rock-hard boiled-treats, Peggy did publish some
majick in the form of her little wiggling finger, something she still wasn't sure why, even after she'd left the shop.
.................................................................
The afternoon was well underway as she waved towards Clem Willard and shook the perplexities of her deliberations
from her head. Why did Silas Mann sell a perfectly-nice silk dress for the price of a dull pebble that -even after Peggy
quietly closed the door behind her, the store-owner still believed was a sapphire? Approaching the blonde young man
with disquiet on his mind, the little candy-sucking spell-worker also wondered what glammer had this puzzling Muriel
Gump embraced to perform such an act?
"Hello Clem..." Peggy said easily and held out a small paper packet with the Black-Bullets inside, "...divna' tell me, yer'
couldn't live without me" she added jocularly. But peering at the boy's doleful features, it was obvious to the grin-fading
sorceress that the jest had failed. "Miss Powler..." Clem whispered and gazed over to where the faint footmarks of the
weasel still lay in the dust, "...have you ever heard of Gretna Grindylow?"
Edith Head Gives Good Wardrobe.