The oldest witch sent word round the village: Plague is coming.
Witches lie, said some.
She was right, though: plague did come. It was bad. Many fell ill. Some died.
To each house she sent round a flask of potion, with the message: Here, drink this.
The witch-folk all drank, of course, and some of the others too; but some would not.
Worse 'n' plague, they said, anything comes from a witch.
Of those that drank, nearly all lived, and in this way, many were saved. But among those who refused the potion, many, many died.
