Thomas Gainsborough Cottage Girl with Dog and Pitcher

Thomas Gainsborough Cottage Girl with Dog and PitcherAlexandre Cabanel The Birth of VenusSandro Botticelli The Story of Nastagio degli OnestiSandro Botticelli The Cestello AnnunciationSandro Botticelli Pallas and the Centaur
'There's a cart coming, Granny.'
Granny Weatherwax shrugged. 'What you youngsters don't realise—' she began.
Witches never bothered with elementary road safety. Such traffic as there was on the roads of Lancre either went around them or, if this was not possible, waited until they moved out of the way. Granny Weatherwax had grown 'He ran us down!' said Granny.
'You could have got out of the way,' said Magrat.
'Get out of the way?' said Granny. 'We're witches! People get out of our way!' She squelched on to the track, her finger still pointing at the distant cart. 'By Hoki, I'll make him wish he'd never been born—'up knowing this for a fact; the only reason she didn't die knowing that it wasn't was that Magrat, with rather better reflexes, dragged her into the ditch.It was an interesting ditch. There were jiggling corkscrew things in it which were direct descendants of things which had been in the primordial soup of creation. Anyone who thought that ditchwater was dull could have spent an instructive half-hour in that ditch with a powerful microscope. It also had nettles in it, and now it had Granny Weatherwax.She struggled up through the weeds, incoherent with rage, and rose from the ditch like Venus Anadyomene, only older and with more duckweed.'T-t-t,' she said, pointing a shaking finger at the disappearing cart.'It was young Nesheley from over Inkcap way,' said Nanny Ogg, from a nearby bush. 'His family were always a bit wild. Of course, his mother was a Whipple.'