Dorset dear

Ann Kerley had lived in great peace and contentment for more than seventy-three years. Her neighbours considered her a good plain 'ooman, who always had a kind word for every one, and was so ready to do a good turn for another body as heart could wish. But, lo and behold! one fine morning old Ann Kerley awoke to find herself a witch. The previous day had been sultry and wild, with spells of fierce sunshine that smote down upon honest people's heads as they toiled in cornfield or potato-plot, bringing out great drops of sweat on sunburnt faces, and forcing more than one labourer to supplement the shade and comfort of his broad chip hat by a cool moist cabbage leaf.