Crab-Faced, Crab-Tongued, With Deep-Set Eyes That Glared, Unfriendly And Unfriended Lived The Crone Upon The Common In Her Hut, Alone, Past Which But Seldom Any Villager Fared. Some Said She Was A Witch And Rode, Wild-Haired, To Devils' Revels: On Her Hearth'S Rough Stone A Fiend Sat Ever With Gaunt Eyes That Shone A Shaggy Hound Whose Fangs At All Were Bared. So One Day, When A Neighbour'S Cow Had Died And Some One'S Infant Sickened, Good Men Shut The Crone In Prison: Dragged To Court And Tried: Then Hung Her For A Witch And Burnt Her Hut. Days After, On Her Grave, All Skin And Bones They Found The Dog, And Him They Killed With Stones.