The newspapers always refer to Josie Forbes as the Witch of Taskee, but her neighbors have never taken the charge seriously. Josie is all right, they say, except that there's something wrong in her stomach. It was a rabbit-faced gambler at Flat River, Mo., who first told me about this.
"As long as Josie don't eat nothin' but soup," said he, "she's just like any other woman. But give her a corn dodger, or a couple of fried eggs, an' she can see things that's hid from us common folks."
Then came a long tale about a farmer named Hibbard, who was murdered away up on Wolf Creek. Hibbard's widow was charged with the crime, but Sheriff Morgan and Deputy "Windy" Robbins were not sure that she was guilty, so they drove out to consult the Witch about it. I looked up the newspaper accounts of this, and found that the West Plains (Mo.) Gazette described the interview as follows:
"It is while eating that the Witch enters the trance in which she tells of things past, present and future . . . 'tell us something about a murder which was committed the other day,' said Sheriff Morgan. 'I see a woman going up a path to an orchard,' began the Witch of Taskee. 'In the house are two men, and another is lying down. One of the men is light complexioned and he's got a gun. BOOM! and the man lying down is shot . . . The truth will all come out some day, but it will be a long time till it's told.'"
I was unable to find out whether this stuff was introduced as evidence at the trial, but Mrs. Hibbard was acquitted, and the old-timers agreed that the Witch's tale certainly influenced the jury.
My road-map showed Taskee Station on Highway 67, between Greenville and Poplar Bluff, so the next time I was down that way I drove out to see the Witch. A mile or so north of Taskee I took a dim trail to the west, and after driving half a mile through the woods I came to a gate marked Forbes Farm. Just beyond was a neat white cottage, with a good barn and a well-kept orchard.
A middle-aged couple sat on the porch, eating what appeared to be breakfast—at 10 o'clock in the morning! This is unusual in the Ozarks, where most of us breakfast at daybreak. Even more extraordinary was the inhospitable behavior of these people. Instead of inviting me to "set down an' eat some vittles," this man merely shouted at me over his shoulder.
"We'll call ye in soon as she gits ready," he cried. "It won't be long now."
So I waited on a bench in the yard, and pretty soon the man came out and sat down beside me. A fat man he was, with most of the fingers missing from his left hand. This was William Ezra Forbes, husband of the Taskee Witch. He pronounces his name in two syllables, as if it were spelled For-bus. A genial, profane, well-informed chap, he spoke at length of war, hog-cholery, international finance, how to make chickens lay eggs at night, and other matters of general interest. He said little about himself, but I gathered that he was born in Tennessee about 1870, and had lived in the Ozarks since he was 10 years old.
"She was one of the Nelson gals," he said when I asked about the Witch's early history. "Her name was Perlinia Josephine Nelson, an' when we was married 38 years ago she wasn't no different from anybody else. But after we'd been married about seven years she took to throwing fits. Long as she stuck to milk an' soup she was all right, but whenever we give her a bit of solid food she'd go into one of them trances. She talked kind of wild, an' didn't seem to know anybody, so we-all figgered maybe she was going crazy.
"Well, sir, I was a tie-hacker in them days, an' one time I lost my axe, while Perlinia was havin' one of these here fits. All of a sudden she says 'William, your axe is a-layin' behind a big black-oak down by the gate.' I didn't take no stock in it at the time, an' just let on like I didn't hear. But after while I went out an' there laid the axe, right where she said it was!
"After that we'd hide things just to try her out, an' damn' if she didn't find 'em pretty near every time! She could do it blindfolded, or at night—didn't seem to make no difference to her. Soon as the news got norated around, folks begun to come here in droves, tryin' to find stuff that had been lost, or maybe stole. It got so that 20 or 30 of the critters would come every day, an' one Sunday there was a 149 people here all at the same time.
"Perlinia didn't like it at first, but after while she got kind of used to helpin' folks out thataway. She wouldn't charge nothin' for what she done, but we made a livin' out o' feedin' the folks that come. We charged 'em 25 cents a meal. They come mostly in buggies then, an' sometimes they'd have to camp here three or four days before she could git around to 'em. I run a hack-line awhile, to fetch folks over from the railroad. But they pestered us most to death, an' there wasn't no money in it, so finally I told Perlinia that we'd just have to charge folks somethin'. Well, sir, she got mad an' quit the whole business for more'n a year. Just turned folks away by the hundreds, an' wouldn't even talk to 'em!
"Finally we got her started a-talkin' to folks again, an' now she takes whatever they're a mind to give her. But she won't make no regular charge for her work, nor set no price on her powers. She won't let us do no advertisin', neither. I put up a big sign once, down by the gate. But the first time we went to church she seen the damn' thing, an' made me tear it down."
"Is Mrs. Forbes a church member, then?" I asked.
"Perlinia's a strong Baptist when she's in her natural mind," said he, "but when she gets into one of them trances she don't give a damn 'bout religion. Never says a word about God nor Christ nor Heaven nor none of them things. She lets on like there's a little boy named Joe a-standin' right beside her, tellin' her how to answer folks' questions. Sometimes she'll set in the house all by herself, an' talk just like there was a lot of people with her, sayin' 'Hello' an' 'Goodbye' an' all like that. She can thread a needle in the dark, an' read print through a wool blanket, an' tell time by a man's watch without ever takin' it out of his pocket. She can pick up hot coals without gittin' burnt. One time I seen Perlinia stick her hand right into a kettle of b'ilin' molasses, an' it never hurt her a bit!"
"Is Mrs. Forbes an educated woman?" I asked.
"Naw, she ain't," he answered promptly. "Perlinia can read pretty good, but that's about all. She never went only to the third readin' book."
"Is she a healer, too, as well as a fortune-teller?"
"Well," said Mr. Forbes, "she don't claim to work no miracles. But she can tell what's wrong with a person, and what kind of medicine they ought to take. She's helped lots of people that way—anyway they think she's helped 'em. The folks that live around here mostly come to her, instead of goin' to the doctor. One reason is," he added with a grin, "that Perlinia don't charge nothin'. She never takes no money from home folks."
I had several other questions in mind, but just then a boy came to the door and shouted, "Uncle Will" at the top of his voice.
"That means she's ready to talk to you," Forbes said, getting up from the bench.
"Will she let me take her picture?"
"I reckon not, but it won't do no harm to ask her," he answered. "Tell her you're a Democrat an' a Baptist," he added as I walked into the house.
A swarthy old woman sat at a table in the little kitchen, with gray hair falling wildly about her shoulders. Her eyes were bright, alert, intelligent. She was wide awake and in full possession of her faculties. There was no sign of the trance-like stupor that I had expected to find.
"Sit down," said the Witch calmly, and I sat.
She picked up a pencil and made four dots on a piece of wrapping-paper. She marked one S, one E, one N and one W. "Them's the four directions," she explained solemnly.
Around and about these four figures she began to trace random curving lines, so that the whole thing looked like a kind of Arabic monogram.
"You're in the book an' paper business," she said suddenly. "You ain't doin' no good at it, neither, but the future looks better'n the past. You got to trust your friends more'n you been a-doin'. But you've waded your deepest water, an' you don't need to worry about it no more. Your love-affairs is in bad shape. Two red-headed women, an' both of 'em stubborn as mules. You won't have no luck with either one o' them women you're runnin' with now."
I sat speechless, reflecting upon this dismal prognosis, and fearing that there was a large measure of truth in it.
"Your health ain't much good, neither," she went on. "Your bowels is sore, an' your teeth is bad, an' you can't breathe through one side of your nose."
It is true that one of my nostrils is obstructed, due to injuries sustained in an automobile wreck, but how this woman could have known it is more than I can tell. The other troubles are probably visible to any keen observer.
"Well," I said at last, "I'd like mighty well to hear about the Hibbard murder case—"
The Witch replied curtly that she never talked about "other folks' business," and glanced rather pointedly at the clock. She absolutely refused to let me photograph her, even if I was a Democrat and a Baptist, which she seemed inclined to doubt. Finally I got up, and said something about payment.
"I don't charge nothin' for talkin' to people," she answered. "If folks want to give me somethin', I take it an' thank 'em kindly."
"How much do they generally give you?" I asked.
"They gener'lly give me a dollar," the witch replied without enthusiasm.
When I handed her the dollar she brightened a bit, and stopped me at the door.
"Go to Graham's Drug Store in Poplar Bluff," she said, "an' git you a bottle of 'August Flower' medicine. It'll cost ye 65 cents, but it's worth the money. Take a good big dose before ever' meal, an' it won't be long till you'll git to feelin' better."
I stopped at the drugstore in Poplar Bluff that night, and inquired about the medicine called "August Flower." The clerk showed me a bottle of yellow liquid, with a brightly colored label. "Laxative, antacid, carminative . . . for dyspepsia," manufactured by G. G. Green, Inc., Woodbury, N. J. The stuff looked mighty fine, but I didn't buy any. I saw something else that looked even better, and had more alcohol in it.