An old story with a new twist and lots participation by Marilyn Kinsella
Once upon a Halloween night there lived a little ole witch that lived in a little ole house at the very top of a very tall hill. She loved living at the top of that hill. No one bothered her – not even those pesky trick or treaters. She could enjoy the peace and quiet. (Ahhh!) This Halloween night she was busy making some of her famous batwing brew. After she added the last pinch of nightshade, she got ready for bed. It had been a busy night. But, as the fire grew hotter, the brew bubbled fast and furious (bl,bl,bl,bl – finger back and forth on lips) It was making so much noise (repeat – louder) that she couldn’t get a wink of sleep. Finally, she couldn’t stand it. She ran out into the woods crying “Too much noise…too much noise…too much noise!"
She ran on until she came to a huge oak tree. There, silhouetted against the full moon, was a wise old owl. The sage old owl asked, “Who-who-who is there?”
“It’s me Witch Gwendolyn! I’ve run away from my house because there is too much noise, and I can’t get a wink of sleep!”
“Toooo much noise? I know what to do.”
“Tell me at once or I’ll turn you into a toe-tappin tree toad.”
“Go back home and invite ten friendly ghosts to your house and you shall see.”
Now Witch Gwendolyn knew that the owl was the wisest animal there ever was. So she went down to the local hauntary and asked ten ghosts to be her guests. But when she got back home the brew was bubbling…and now the 10 ghosts were wailing (ooooooo). She still could not hear herself think, so she ran out of the house and into the woods crying, “Too much noise…too much noise… too much noise!”
The wise old owl said…”Who- who-who is there?”
“It’s me, Witch Gwendolyn. I did as you said and brought the ten ghosts inside. But now it is noisier than before. Whatever shall I do?”
“Tooooo much noise? I know what to do.”
“Tell me at once or I’ll turn you into a yellow-bellied jellyfish!”
“Go back and invite 20 cats to your house, and you shall see.”
So, Witch Gwendolyn collected 20 cats behind trash cans, on top of backyard fences, and under wood piles. But, when she brought them home, the cauldron was still
bubbling…the ghosts were still wailing… and now the cats were meowing (meow, meow, meow) Poor Witch Gwendolyn went running out into the woods crying…”
Too much noise…too much noise… too much noise!”
The wise old owl said…”Who- who-who is there?”
“It’s me again. I did just what you said. Now it’s louder that ever with the cauldron bubbling, the ghost wailing, and the cats meowing. What ever will I do?”
“Tooooo much noise? I know what to do.”
“Tell me at once or I’ll turn you into a pimpled-face platypus!”
“Go back home and invite 30 skeletons into your house and you shall see.”
So, Witch Gwendolyn went to the graveyard at the edge of town, dug up 30 skeletons, and brought them back to her house. But when she brought them home, the cauldron was still bubbling… the 10 ghosts were still wailing… the 20 cats were still meowing… and now 30 skeletons were dancing the tarantella going (clicketty clack-clicketty clack-clicketty clack) Poor Witch Gwendolyn went running into the woods crying… “Too much noise…too much noise… too much noise!”
The wise old owl said …”Who- who-who is there?”
“Whoooo do you think it is you flea-bittin bag of feathers? It’s me, Witch Gwendolyn. I did everything you said 10 ghosts, 20 cats, 30 skeletons… and it’s noisier than a train station in my house. Whatever shall I do?”
”Tooo much noise? I know what to do.”
“Tell me at once or I’ll turn you into a baldheaded, chicken-livered, chickadee!”
“Go back home and invite 40 hairy monsters to your house, and you shall see.”
Soooo, Witch Gwendolyn searched under every bed, in every closet and around every dark corner for 40 hairy monsters and she brought them back to her house.
(Now do you think it was any quieter? Nooooo!)
Now, the cauldron was bubbling…the 10 ghosts were wailing…the 20 cats were meowing…the 30 skeletons were dancing….and 40 monsters were laughing (moo-ha-ha-ha)
Ahhhhh! Poor Witch Gwendolyn. She thought she’d never know a minute’s worth of peace and quiet ever again. She went running out into the woods crying “Too much noise, too much noise….TOO…MUCH…NOISE!”
“Who- who- who is there?”
“Who is there? Who is there? Are you asking me ‘who is there?’ It’s me, you bug-eyed, mouse-eating, swivel-headed know-it-all. I really am beginning to think that your reputation of being smarter than a Pentium 2000 is greatly exaggerated. I did everything you said…10 ghosts, 20 cats, 30 skeletons, 40 hairy monsters, and it is still so noisy I can’t get a wink of sleep. And, heaven knows, I need my beauty rest. Whatever shall I do?”
“My, my, my, my, my! I only know of one last thing you can do.”
“Tell me at once or…or…or I’ll turn you into a…a …stump!
“A stump?”
“Yes, a useless termite-ridden, bug-invested, water-logged tree stump!”
“Witch Gwendolyn…you wouldn’t do that. That’s plumb mean.”
“Then tell me what I must do.”
“If you want peace and quiet you must invite 50 witches to come to your house.”
Poor Witch Gwendolyn was desperate. She flew around on her broomstick. She flew from Hackensack and back, and invited 50…50 of her nearest and dearest witchy friends to her house.
But, you guessed it, when she got home, the cauldron bubbled… the 10 ghosts wailed… the 20 cats meowed…the 30 skeletons danced…the 40 monsters laughed… and now, the 50 witches cackled (hee-hee-hee)
“Enough!” cried Witch Gwendolyn. She went over to the cauldron and gave everyone a right nice helping of her batwing brew. And. when the batwing brew was gone, all the ghosts, and the cats, and the skeletons, and the monsters, and the witches went home. And, since there was nothing more in the cauldron, it didn’t bubble any longer. Everything was real quiet. “Ahhh!” said Witch Gwendolyn that’s more like it. She snuggled down in her blanket to go to sleep (close eyes)… when she heard (pop eyes wide open). “Who-who-who-whooooo….”
Review: THANK YOU, thank you, thank you. I had a LOT of fun with this with the
preschool group that I told to at the Senior home. Several seniors came
to... love the BIG stretch in ages... they claim to come to see the little
kids, but they love the stories too. I na, from Storytell
