Caravaggio Madonna di Loreto

were quite amusing, like Tiger Oil, Maiden's Prayer and Husband's Helper, and one or two of the stoppers smelled like Granny's scullery after she had done some of her secret distillations.
A shape movedbrings you down from the mountains, Esme? And this child - your assistant, perhaps?"
"What's it you're selling, please?" asked Esk. The shape laughed.
"Oh, things to stop things that shouldn't be and help things that should, love," it said. "Let me just close up, my dears, and I will be right with you."
The shape bustled past Esk in a nasal kaleidoscope of fragrances and buttoned up the curtains at the front of the stall. Then the drapes at the back were thrown up, letting in the afternoon sunlight. in the stall's dim recesses and a brown wrinkled hand slid lightly on to hers. "Can I assist you, missy?" said a cracked voice, in tones of syrup of figs, "Is it your fortune you want telling, or is it your future you want changing, maybe?" "She's with me," snapped Granny, spinning around, "and your eyes are betraying you, Hilta Goatfounder, if you can't tell her age." The shape in front of Esk bent forward. "Esme Weatherwax?" it asked. "The very same," said Granny. "Still selling thunder drops and penny wishes, Hilta? How goes it?" "All the better for seeing you," said the shape. "What