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'Yes?' he said. 'What's that mean?'
'Means we want three rooms for the night,' said Granny, looking smugly at the other two.
'With sausage,' said Nanny.
'And one vegetarian meal,' said Magrat.
The man looked at all three of them. Then he went over to the door.
'You see this door? You see this sign?' he said.
'We don't bother about signs,' said Granny.
'Well, then,' said the man, 'I give up. What's a pointy hat and a broom really mean?'
'That means I'm a witch,' said Granny.
The man put his head on one side.
'Yeah?' he said. 'Is that another word for daft old woman?'
Dear Jason and everyone, wrote Nanny Ogg, Dyou know, they dont know about witches here, thats how bakcward they are in foreign pans. -A man gave Esme some Cheek and she would of lost her Temper so me and Magrat and I got hold of her and rushed her out because if you make someone think they've been turned into something there's always trouble, you remember what happened larst time when afterwards you had to go and dig a pond for Mr Wilkins to live in . . .
They had managed to find a table to themselves in a tavern. It was packed with people of all species. The noise was at shouting level and smoke wreathed the air.
'Will you stop that scribbling, Gytha Ogg. It gets on my nerves,' snapped Granny.
'They must have witches here,' said Magrat. 'Everywhere has witches. You've got to have witches abroad. You find witches everywhere.'
'Like cockroaches,' said Nanny Ogg cheerfully.
'You should've let me make him believe he was a frog,' muttered Granny.
'You can't do that, Esme. You can't go around making people believe they're things just because they've been cheeky and don't know who you are,' said Gytha. 'Otherwise we'd be up to here in people hopping about.'
Despite many threats, Granny Weatherwax had never turned anyone into a frog. The way she saw it, there was a technically less cruel but cheaper and much more satisfying thing you could do. You could leave them human and make them think they were a frog, which also provided much innocent entertainment for passers-by.
'I always felt sorry for Mr Wilkins,' said Magrat, staring moodily at the table top. 'It was so sad watching him try to catch flies on his tongue.'
'He shouldn't have said what he said,' said Granny.
'What, that you were a domineering old busybody?' said Nanny innocently.
'I don't mind criticism,' said Granny. 'You know me. I've never been one to take offence at criticism. No-one could say I'm the sort to take offence at criticism - '
'Not twice, anyway,' said Nanny. 'Not without blowing bubbles.'
'It's just that I can't stand unfairness,' said Granny. 'And you stop that grinning! Anyway, I don't see why you're making a fuss about it. It wore off after a couple of days.'
'Mrs Wilkins says he still goes out swimming a lot,' said Magrat. 'It's given him a whole new interest, she said.'
'Perhaps they have a different kind of witch in the city,' said Magrat hopelessly. 'Perhaps they wear different sort of clothes.'
'There's only one kind of witch,' said Granny. 'And we're it.'
She looked around the room. Of course, she thought, if someone was keeping witches out, people wouldn't know about them. Someone who didn't want anyone else meddling here. But she let us in ...
'Oh, well, at least we're in the dry,' said Nanny. A drinker standing in a crowd behind her threw back his head to laugh and spilled beer down her back.
