01 - Pongwiffy a Witch of Dirty Habits Read Free Page B

Own landing platform. Ideal for high flying
witches. Every mod. con.”
    “What’s that mean?”
    “Really, don’t you know anything? Modern Contraptions, of course,” said
Sharkadder, who was a bit of a know-all at times. “It sounds ideal,” she
continued. “We’ll go and take a look right away.”
    “What—now?” bleated Pongwiffy, eyeing the toaster sadly.
    “Certainly. We must strike while the iron is hot,” replied Sharkadder, and
bustled away to put on her lipstick.
    By the time Pongwiffy had exchanged her filthy old dressing gown for her
filthy old cardigan and chased the spiders from her hat, the iron had cooled
considerably—but they went anyway.
    “I don’t like it,” muttered Pongwiffy, eyeing the distant tree house
doubtfully. It looked very high up indeed, and Pongwiffy is one of those Witches
who can only stand heights if there’s a Broomstick clamped firmly between her
knees.
    “Nonsense. You can’t even see it from down here,” said Sharkadder.
    “That’s what I mean. It’s too high. I wish I had my Broom.” Pongwiffy hadn’t
been able to persuade her Broom to come. It had become friendly with
Sharkadder’s, and wanted to stay behind and help sweep up. When Pongwiffy
argued, it merely swept away and returned with a copy of the Coven Rule Book,
pointing a bristle at the rule which said, “Daytime flying on Broomsticks is
strictly forbidden.”
    “Well, you haven’t, and that’s that,” snapped Sharkadder. She was beginning
to suspect that Pongwiffy had no intention of leaving—ever. Which was true.
Pongwiffy enjoyed the breakfasts too much. “You’ll just have to climb the rope
ladder, same as anyone else,” she added.
    “Can I borrow your Wand?” asked Pongwiffy hopefully. Hers was still in a
state of trauma after trying, unsuccessfully, to cancel out Wizard Magic.
    “Certainly not!” Sharkadder was shocked at the request. Wands are not to be
used lightly. Serious Magic is what they are intended for, and planting lazy
Witches in tree tops could not be considered as Serious. Besides, they weren’t
supposed to borrow Wands. It was against The Rules, like daytime flying of
Broomsticks.
    “You go first, then,” said Pongwiffy.
    “No,” said Sharkadder, who didn’t like the look of the rope ladder either.
“No, I’ll spoil my make-up. I’ll stay down here and catch you if you
fall.”
    “Thanks very much,” Pongwiffy snapped, nastily.
    “Not at all,” snapped back Sharkadder, even more nastily, and made a note to
break friends as soon as Pongwiffy was settled.
    Swallowing hard, Pongwiffy caught hold of the flimsy ladder, and set her foot
on the bottom rung. It swayed alarmingly.
    “What’s the matter? Scared?” jeered Sharkadder, seeing her hesitate.
    “Who, me? Certainly not,” said Pongwiffy, and started up the lower rungs at a
bold run.
    She had only scrambled some ten feet when she began to slow down. She already
sensed that she was unnaturally high. The air felt colder already. A chilly gust
of wind blew up her cardigan, and she gripped the thin ropes more firmly.
    “How much further?” she called down, not liking to look up.
    “Lots,” came Sharkadder’s voice from below. She sounded shockingly far away.
“Keep going, you’ve hardly started!” Pongwiffy gulped and forced herself to move
on up. Her knees scraped on the tree trunk as she climbed, bits of moss and tree
bark fell in her eyes and her cardigan kept getting hooked up on the smaller
branches.
    A fat wood pigeon flew past her head, staring in puzzlement before flying
away. Pongwiffy risked a glance up. The tree house seemed even further away now
than it did from the ground.
    “Hurry up!” called Sharkadder. “I can’t wait all day, I’ve got important
things to do!”
    Her voice rang with a worrying new echo. Pongwiffy looked down, and trembled
at what she saw. Sharkadder had turned into a midget. From this angle, her body
had disappeared, and only her small,