Once upon a time there lived in a deep forest, a wicked witch named Meggi-bo. She rose each day at dawn and built a roaring fire beneath her magic cauldron. After eating lightly of snakes and puppy dog-tails she began her daily chores of brewing evil potions and enchanting, while sometimes unwary wood-folk chanced to pass her way.
One day as she was practicing her most frightening faces and simmering an extra large pot of black flies and ragweed, a small group of elves from a neighboring forest came frolicking near the clearing where she was working. It was such a shock to hear laughter and song after so many hundreds years of being a hermitess that she stopped in wonder to listen to their game.
Alas, in so doing, the cauldron boiled too long! Instead of the expected elixir of black flies and super-pollen, a glorious sunset burst from the cauldron beautiful and flaming into the sky. Egad! This will never do. Her reputation could be ruined. Whoever heard of beauty issuing from the hand of a wicked, wicked witch?
She threw herself on the ground and g-nashed her yellow teeth; she leapt into the air and quivered in frenzy. She demanded the elves leave with haste or she would cast a terrible spell. But the elves laughed at her terror for why should good fear evil? To infuriate her further, they each blew a magic snowflake into the air to clear the gloom and fogs, which hovered around such evil intent. One snowflake became the pure mountain air, another the bluest of skies, third, the softest greens in the hills, fourth, the sparkling lakes, and lastly, the Four Seasons: beauty in variety.
Meggi-bo feared the jig was up. She had one last trick and put her cards on the table. She proposed a duel between good and evil. However, who of the manly elves would risk integrity in a fight with a lady, even a wicked, wicked witch? Should it be a physical
duel, he would be considered a ‘cad’; should it be a verbal duel, he would become a dead ‘duck’.
As always, ‘good’ has unforeseen forces at its side. At that moment of dilemma for the manly elves, a beautiful spirit appeared…an Adirondack Indian maiden: The
Spirit of the Adirondacks. Her speech was like music and she sang in her clear soprano: “I have come to forever free the Adirondacks of Meggi-bo and her evil schemes. I shall duel with Meggi-bo: good magic over evil.” There was a tense moment. The elves stood by waxing their skiis. And Meggi-bo continued to brew.
Meggi-bo brewed her strongest brew. ‘Good’ chose a sprinkling of drops from the Fulton Chain Lakes- the Adirondacks Fountain of Youth .The pure potion of the good spirit was too great a match for evil. At the touch of the water, the old witch jumped into her own cauldron and began to boil away!
But wait…the elves pulled her out! to receive an even more horrible punishment.
“MEGGI-BO! YOU ARE CONDEMMED TO RIDE A ROPE TOW FOR TWO THOUSAND YEARS!”
And as Meggi-bo began the first ascent she was heard to cry out in mortification and disgust: “Aw Fudge!” You guessed it. We’ve called our town ‘Old Forge’ ever since.
By: Mirnie Kashiwa 2/10/1956