The Witch of Blackbird Pond
Superstar
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
The site of mercy's tears was more than kit could endure. If she looked at them. For another instance, she would fly into 1000 pieces in a panic. She fled out the door and down the roadway, running blind to reason or decorum past the meeting house, passed the loiterers near the town pump past the houses where her pupils lived. She scarcely knew where her feet were taking her, but something deep within her had chosen a destination. She did not stop until she reached the great meadow there. Without thinking, she left the pathway plunged into a field and fell face down in the grass. Her whole body wrenched with sobs. The tall grass rustled over her head and hit her from sight and the meadows closed silently around her and took her in. When kit had sobbed herself out, she lay for a long time, too exhausted to move or think perhaps she slept a little. But presently she opened her eyes and became aware of the smell of the warm earth and the rough grass against her face. She rolled over and stretched, blinking up at the blue sky, the tips of the long grasses switched gently in the breeze. The hot sun pressed down on her so that her body felt light and empty. Slowly the meadow began to fulfill its promise all at once with an instinctive, quickening of her senses. Kit knew that she was not alone that someone was very close. She started up only a few feet away. A woman was sitting watching her, a very old woman with short cropped white hair and faded, almost colorless eyes set deep in an incredibly wrinkled face. As kids stared at her. She spoke in a rusty murmuring voice. They did. Well, child to come to the meadow. There is always a cure here when the heart is troubled for a moment. Kit was too dumbfounded to move. I know the murmuring voice went on. Many is the time I found it here myself. That is why I live here. Kit stiffened with a cold prickles against her spine. Those thin stooped shoulders, that tattered gray shawl. This was the queer woman from Blackbird Pond. Hannah Tupper. The witch, the girl stared horror struck at the odd shaped scar on the woman's forehead. Was it the devil's mark? Folks wonder why I want to live here so close to the swamp. The soft husky voice continued but I think the knows why I could see it in my face. A moment back. The meadow has spoken to the two, hasn't it? The cold feeling began to pass away in some unexplainable way. This strange little creature seemed to belong here so much. A part of this quiet, lonely place that her voice might have been the voice of the meadow itself. I didn't really intend to come here. Kit found herself explaining. I always meant to come back. But this morning I just seemed to get here by accident. Hannah Tupper shook her head as though she knew better. They must be hungry. She said more briskly come and I'll give thee a bite to eat. She hitched herself awkwardly to her feet. Reminded of the time kit leaped up and shook out her skirts. I must go back. She said hastily, I must have been gone for hours. The woman peered up at her, her eyes almost lost in the folds of leathery wrinkles had a humorous gleam, a toothless smile crinkled her cheeks. They better not go back looking. So she advised whatever it is they can stand up to it better with a bit of food inside. Come along. Tis no distance at all.