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'Then you'd better set yours good and hard, Esme. If the Creator had meant us to shift rocks by witchcraft, he wouldn't have invented shovels. Knowing when to use a shovel is what being a witch is all about. And put down that wheelbarrow, Magrat. You don't know nothing about machinery.'
'All right, then,' said Magrat. 'Why don't we try the wand?'
Granny Weatherwax snorted. 'Hah! Here? Whoever heard of a fairy godmother in a mine?'
'If I was stuck behind a load of rocks under a mountain I'd want to hear of one,' said Magrat hotly.
Nanny Ogg nodded. 'She's got a point there, Esme. There's no rule about where you fairy godmother.'
'I don't trust that wand,' said Granny. 'It looks wizardly to me.'
'Oh, come on,' said Magrat, 'generations of fairy godmothers have used it.'
Granny flung her hands in the air.
'All right, all right, all right,' she snapped. 'Go ahead! Make yourself look daft!'
Magrat took the wand out of her bag. She'd been dreading this moment.
It was made of some sort of bone or ivory; Magrat hoped it wasn't ivory. There had been markings on it once, but generations of plump fairy godmotherly hands had worn them almost smooth. Various gold and silver rings were set into the wand. Nowhere were there any instructions. Not so much as a rune or a sigil anywhere on its length indicated what you were supposed to do with it.
'I think you're supposed to wave it,' said Nanny Ogg. 'I'm pretty sure it's something like that.'
Granny Weatherwax folded her arms. 'That's not proper witching,' she said.
Magrat gave the wand an experimental wave. Nothing happened.
'Perhaps you have to say something?' said Nanny.
Magrat looked panicky.
'What do fairy godmothers say?' she wailed.
'Er,' said Nanny, 'dunno.'
'Huh!' said Granny.
Nanny Ogg sighed. 'Didn't Desiderata tell you anything?
'Nothing!'
Nanny shrugged.
'Just do your best, then,' she said.
Magrat stared at the pile of rocks. She shut her eyes. She took a deep breath. She tried to make her mind a serene picture of cosmic harmony. It was all very well for monks to go on about cosmic harmony, she reflected, when they were nicely tucked away on snowy mountains with only yetis to worry about. They never tried seeking inner peace with Granny Weatherwax glaring at them.
She waved the wand in a vague way and tried to put pumpkins out of her mind.
She felt the air move. She heard Nanny gasp.
She said, 'Has anything happened?'
After a while Nanny Ogg said, 'Yeah. Sort of. I hope they're hungry, that's all.'
And Granny Weathenvax said, "That's fairy godmother-ing, is it?'
Magrat opened her eyes.
