A youthful witch once flew with a group of experienced witches from Herkenbosch in Limburg to Cologne in Germany, in order to have a few stiff drinks in a local wine cellar, well known by the elderly ladies. The witches sat down on their broomsticks, and the leader of the witches made the flight possible by using the following magic formula:

Hoetepetoet!

Out through the chimney,

Over hedge and bush,

'Til in Cologne in the wine cellar,

And afterwards back home.

The young witch had such a good time in Cologne that she decided to make the trip once more, but this time Just with a young friend, who had also entered the school of witchcraft only recently. They wanted to have more freedom to do as they pleased.

At first, the friend made objections, especially because the trip was a dangerous one. After all, If one did not return home before sunrise, the devil would break their necks. Still, with some smooth talk the young witch persuaded her hesitant friend to come along; not to worry, she knew the magic formula by heart.

One fine evening – it was almost midnight – both witches were fully prepared to undertake the journey. Sittmg on their broomsticks, they waited for the first striking of the clock, and then the first witch said: "Now then ... all set?"

"Yes. I'm ready," the second witch replied.

"Right. Here we go," said the first witch.

"Wait a minute," the other witch said. "Isn't it too dangerous to fly over such a distance? Hadn't we better stay home?"

"Are you chicken?" the first witch replied. "I'm not afraid at all. I can already smell the wine, if you ask me. Now, let's go.

Hoetepetoet!

Out through the chimney,

then through hedge and bush,

'Til in Cologne in the wine cellar,

And never back home."

Obviously, the frivolous witch made a few mistakes reciting the magic formula.

They flew out of the chimney, but instead of flying high into the sky as on the last trip, they now flew just above the ground, through hedges and bushes, to the wine cellar. Heavily battered, they arrived at their destination, their heads and shoulders full of lumps and scratches, and if the fabric of their clothes had not been of such a high quality, they would have arrived half naked and even more wounded. There they lay down on the cellar floor, panting and bleeding. The second witch came to herself, and said in a moaning voice: "You see? I told you that it could go wrong!"

After the witches had come to their senses a bit, they merrily started drinking the wine from the cellar.

"I wish we were home," the second witch said, sipping from her glass.

"Oh, come on!" the first witch said. "We will manage .... We still have our 'horses' .... Where is yours?"

"Here it is," the second witch said. "I had to hold on real tight in order not to lose it .... I wish we were home."

"You're a first class chicken," the first witch grumbled. "Give me your glass and I'll fill it up again."

"Okay," the other witch replied, "but that's the last one. We can't get drunk and fall off our 'horses' . In that case, we will never get home in time for sure. Brr ... ," and she made the gesture of breaking her own neck.

"There is still time," said the first witch in a soothing manner. "Still, let's not waste it. Just one glass and then we'll go."

After they had emptied their glasses for the third time, the witches sat on their broomsticks in order to travel back home ... but their horses remained motionless. They shouted and groaned, turned their broomsticks back and forth, made all kinds of movements to activate the horses, but to no avail ....

"Now what?" the second witch moaned.

"Yes, now what?" the first witch repeated. "We are lost, absolutely lost."

"Why?" the other asked: "How can you be so sure, all of a sudden?"

"Because I can remember now," said the first witch. "I made a mistake in the magic formula. Instead of over I said through hedge and bush, and that's why the journey was so uncomfortable. However, I also said nevermore instead of afterwards back home. We are lost indeed!"

"Oh dear! Oh dear!" the other witch lamented. "I'm afraid you're right. It doesn't matter anymore; the devil will get us anyway – either now or tomorrow morning. What's the difference in the perspective of eternity? Still, I refuse to go to hell sober .... Fill me up!" she said, passing her glass.

"That's the first sensible thing you've said all day," the first witch said. "Let's drink, drink, drink .... Then at least we won't feel how the devil breaks our necks."

Then the two witches drank as much wine as they could master. It wasn't long before they both lay flat on their backs on the cellar floor – completely drunk.

As it happened, some workers came into the cellar very early that morning. They found the two witches, passed out on the floor, with their broomsticks next to them. The workers went to alarm the authorities. In no time, everyone in the entire city of Cologne was up and about. The whole population witnessed how, well before sunrise, the witches were brought to the stake and tied back to back on the pole.

Now the story is reaching its end. Fortunately the witches didn't have to experience how the devil broke their necks in the cellar. As soon as they felt the first flames licking their bodies, the witches came to their senses, and they both converted themselves to Christianity again, before they were consumed by the fire.

The devil was not amused at all, and everyone could see that: He was flying over the stake in the shape of a little owl, and the air was soon filled with the ghastly smell of sulphur and pitch. He had lost his power over the witches, and returned to hell empty handed.