There once was an old witch who lived up in the northern
woods of Maine. She had moved farther and farther north
because people have become afraid of witches these last several hundred years,
and she felt it was best to stay out of their way. But it happened that she had moved so far
north that she was too isolated to get the things she needed for daily life,
and this did not suit her well at all.
So she contrived a disguise one day, and anyone who lives here can tell
you it was pretty clever. Simply put,
she would transfigure herself into a cow and wander into a town to get the
things she needed. No one pays much
attention to a cow, after all, and this worked well for her for many years.
One day she wandered into a town to pick up some flour to
make her pies and bread. A greedy farmer
on the edge of town saw her and decided he would steal her add her to his
herd. So he poked and prodded and
whipped her until she ran into the corral with his other cows. Once she was secure within, he laughed and
went indoors for supper. The old witch
was very sad, but when she conferred with the other cows and learned of the
farmer’s mistreatment of them all, she became furious. That night she cast a spell on the whole herd
so that all the milk would be as sour as vinegar. When people came to buy their milk the next
morning, they all returned it shortly thereafter because it was so horrible! That day the farmer made no money at
all. The following day, the same thing
happened, and then the day after that and the day after that still.
The farmer finally realized that it had all begun after he
brought the new cow into the herd, so he went out to get her and slaughter
her. When he arrived, she transfigured
herself back into an old woman and ran at him with eyes ablaze. He fell to his knees and begged her
forgiveness, but she would hear none of it.
Right on the spot, she put a curse on him saying that if ever he
mistreated his cows again, the milk would be sour as vinegar but that if he
treated his cows well, the milk would flow and be sweet as honey. Then she left and took what little money he
had in his pocket so she could go and buy her flour.
Of course, the farmer did not believe her and he mistreated
his cows again for many weeks, whereupon immediately all the milk was soured
and remained so. Then, beside himself
with the fear of poverty and ruin, he brought the cows sweet grain, grass, and
silage to eat and a beautiful pasture in which to eat it, whereupon the milk immediately
flowed bounteous and as sweet as honey.
Soon his customers came back, drawn by the sweet scent of fresh
milk. They praised the farmer and paid
him well and his pockets were full of money once again.
To this day, when the milk sours and tastes bad, you can bet
an old witch is out and about teaching a naughty farmer a lesson. When the milk is good, you can bet that the
farmer has learned his lesson, fed his cows well, given them green pasture, and
housed them in a nice, clean barn. And
if you want to be certain of good, sweet milk, you must buy it straight from
the farmer and not from a store, where any kind of reverse magic may have been
done to it. This is why the people of Maine drink fresh raw
milk straight from the farm and why they thank the old witch every morning when
they have their fair share.
