Once upon a time there lived an old hag. Some people
called her a witch. She wore a black skirt, a green scarf and a purple
robe. Her shoes had holes in them and her hair was a mess.
All around her house grew thistle, briars and thorns.
Spiderwebs clung to the bushes and snakes slithered by.
One day she went out to her thistle patch and a long
black and orange snake hissed at her. Are you the hag of Nith?
The witch cackled and scratched her wart-covered
nose. I am.
I want you to turn me into a boy. I am tired of
being on the ground all the time, crawling on my belly. The snake
Why should I turn you into a boy? What will you give
me in return?
The snake moved closer to the witch. Oh, hag of
Night, its forked tongue came out of its mouth, If you turn me into a
boy I will cook for you every day and be your companion.
Now the hag of Nith was lonely and she ate nothing
but rat tails and lizard toes. She thought it would be nice to have
someone cook for her and be her companion. She took her cane and touched
the snake. Poof! The snake turned into a boy.
The boy took one look at the hag and saw how ugly she
really was and ran away, never to be seen again.
The hag was angry, but what could she do. The next
day she was in her thistle garden and she saw another snake. She picked
up her cane and killed it.
The moral of the story never trust anything that
slithers on its belly.