T'other night Queenie ad her mates round fer er monthly get tergether. Calls emselves some sort o village committee but I knows wot they're really upto! They sits around a smokin their pipes, a passin round the gin bottle an cacklin away ter each other.
'Yer a bunch o ole witches' I tells em, but they jes laughs an sends me out fer more gin and baccy. I don dare cross em though - me an doggie, we bin out in th fields and seen markings on th ground, th corn dollies an bits o ole candle stubs in jam jars.
The one with the bath chair, I reckon she's their leader!
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