BIDDY-BE-SURE, THE IRISH WITCH
It was raining. It sometimes dies in the Emerald Isle; but the country
looked wonderfully green and fresh and beautiful.
It somehow reminded Coppertop of a lovely lady, a lady who was weeping,
always weeping, yet smiling at times at her own tears; a lady with
great, tragic, blue eyes and black lashes, which weeping could not
spoil.
When the children arrived upon the magic sword, at the cabin of
Biddy-be-sure, they were surprised to hear a good-natured voice from
within saying--
“Come in! Come in, me dears!”
“She seems to expect us!” cried Coppertop.
“Witches are always like that!” explained Tibbs; “they can see right
through walls and things without using their eyes.”
As soon as they were inside the cabin, Biddy-be-sure rushed forward to
greet them. But she was so very ugly that they shrank from her in fear.
“Sure,” she cried, wondering at their evident dislike to being
embraced, “sure and Oi’ll give ye a kiss each,” and she came forward
with her lips pursed up.
“Oh! I--I think we really must be going,” cried Coppertop, backing to
the door.
“Would ye be after lavin’ me the momint ye arrive?” said Biddy, looking
very crestfallen. “Sure, ye moight jist as well ’ave gone before ye
came!”
“It’s the Blarney Stone ye’ve come to kiss,” she added, peering at them
sharply, “and not poor ould Biddy-be-sure, ye’ll be after sayin’. But
ye can’t go into the Castle atall, atall, these toimes, unless Oi help
ye.”
“And it’s moighty dangerous!” she warned.
“However did you know that we wanted to kiss it?” cried Coppertop in
astonishment.
“Sure, the North Wind had a gossip wid me, not ten minutes agone, on
this very subject!” explained Biddy, with a twinkle in her eye.
Whilst this conversation was going on, Kiddiwee had discovered Pimby,
the Flying Pig, and the two had struck up a fast friendship. Pimby was
quite a dear, but, being an inflated pig, he was apt to give himself
airs; he had two really beautiful wings, and--well--Flying Pigs are
rare, and Pimby knew it.
As for the Black Cat, it had scuttled up the chimney as soon as the
children appeared, and was seen no more.
“But Oi know the Keeper of the Castle,” said Biddy-be-sure, going back
to her former conversation, “and Oi jist smoile at him, and look at
him wid me little eye, and ‘Bedad,’ he’ll say, ‘Biddy-be-sure, ye can
go up and come down a hundred toimes a day, if ye’ve a moind, for jist
such another smoile as that, bedad!’”
“Come on, let’s start at once!” suggested Tibbs, who did not want to
run the risk of being kissed. “We’ve no time to spare.”
“Oh, but ye have!” cried Biddy-be-sure, wagging her old head wisely;
“ye spare Toime, and Toime ’ill spare ye!”
“But if it isn’t troubling you too much,” cried Coppertop, “we are
rather in a hurry. You see,” she added, “Mummie and Daddy may arrive
home at any moment now.”
“Then, begorrah, we’ll start at once. Come, Pimby! Pimby!” she called
to the Flying Pig.
Then off they started, she riding upon the broomstick, and the children
upon the magic sword of the Samurai.