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promised to make a broom that can fly me to the moon.’’

The willow tree replied weakly, ‘I wish I could, but look at me! Ever

since the well stopped sending me water, my branches stopped growing.

Run to the well and ask him to send me some water. If I get some water,

I’ll grow some fresh and fine branches that will be mine and yours to

take.’

‘Oh dear’, said the shy little witch, Williwu, I don’t know the well.’

The willow tree said softly:

‘It’s up to you, Williwu,

This is something you must do,

If you don't do it soon,

You won't make it to the moon.’

‘All right, I'll try,’ said Williwu. So ran all the way to the well.

‘Dear Well, I'm Williwu. Please send some water to the willow tree.’

‘Ahhhh,’ moaned the well. ‘I wish I could. A storm rolled a huge stone

on top of me. I can't send water to anybody.

If you roll the stone off me, I’ll send water to the tree,’

‘That’s easy!' said Williwu. She began to push the stone but it was too

heavy. She tried casting a spell :

‘Witches spell and witches’ brew,

Here’s a spell from little Williwu.

Stone, move off the well, will you?’

Nothing happened. Williwu began to cry.

Her tears fell on the stone, and the stone felt sorry for her. ‘Williwu’, he

said, ‘Spells never do any magic. Only friends can.’

spell — a set of words believed to have magical power; brew — to prepare a
drink by mixing and boiling various ingredients

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