“There's that old hag Moll Brown, look, see, just past! I wish the ugly sly old witch Would tumble over in the ditch; I wouldn't pick her out not very fast. I don't think she's belied, 'tis clear's the sun That she's a witch if ever there was one. Yes, I do know just hereabout of two Or three folk that have learnt what Moll can do. She did, one time, a pretty deal of harm To Farmer Gruff's folks, down at Lower Farm. One day, you know, they happen'd to offend her, And not a little to their sorrow, Because they would not give or lend her The thing she came to beg or borrow; And so, you know, they soon began to find That she'd a-left her evil wish behind. She soon bewitch'd them; and she had such power, That she did make their milk and ale turn sour, And addle all the eggs their fowls did lay; They couldn't fetch the butter in the churn, And cheeses soon began to turn All back again to curds and whey. The little pigs a-running with the sow Did sicken somehow, nobody knew how, And fall, and turn their snouts towards the sky, And only give one little grunt and die; And all the little ducks and chicken Were death-struck while they were a-pickin' Their food, and fell upon their head, And flapp'd their wings and dropp'd down dead. They couldn't fat the calves; they wouldn't thrive; They couldn't save their lambs alive; Their sheep all took the rot and gave no wool; Their horses fell away to skin and bones, And got so weak they couldn't pull A half a peck of stones; The dog got dead-alive and drowsy, The cat fell sick and wouldn't mousey; And if the wretched souls went up to bed The hag did come and ride them all half dead. They used to keep her out o' the house 'tis true, A-nailing up at door a horse's shoe; And I've a-heard the farmer's wife did try To drive a needle or a pin In through her old hard wither'd skin And draw her blood, a-coming by; But she could never fetch a drop, She bent the pin and broke the needle's top Against her skin, you know, and that, in course, Did only make the hag bewitch them worse.”
A cook of roughly the same moment, setting down the same dish.
Butter is an expensive article, and should be selected with care. If one have the proper place for storing it, and can get it direct from some trustworthy dairy, it would be economical to purchase the winter’s supply in October. About fifty pounds will be enough for a family of two for six months. This should be put up in two or three small tubs. It must be kept in a cool, sweet place. Eggs, of course, are best fresh. It is wise economy for the young housekeeper to pay the extra price, and always be sure of the quality of her supply. Pure milk is a most important adjunct to the table. As far as it is in her power to do so, the housekeeper should see that the supply comes from a wholesome source, and then do her part to keep the milk good by having the vessels perfectly clean and the surroundings such that the milk shall not be contaminated.
Sources: The passage is from Unknown, The Children's Garland from the Best Poets, free to read in full at Project Gutenberg. The recipe is from Parloa, Miss Parloa's Young Housekeeper of 1893, also free in full. Both are in the public domain in the United States. The binding above is ours — oxblood cloth, cheese stamp.