Then we got our `` testimonials , '' and started on our reluctant journey to the domains of the witch . Sara Ray would not go , of course , but she volunteered to stay with Pat while we were away . We did not think it necessary to inform the grown-ups of our errand , or its nature . Grown-ups had such peculiar views . They might forbid our going at all -- and they would certainly laugh at us . Peg Bowen 's house was nearly a mile away , even by the short cut past the swamp and up the wooded hill . We went down through the brook field and over the little plank bridge in the hollow , half lost in its surrounding sea of farewell summers . When we reached the green gloom of the woods beyond we began to feel frightened , but nobody would admit it . We walked very closely together , and we did not talk . When you are near the retreat of witches and folk of that ilk the less you say the better , for their feelings are so notoriously touchy . Of course , Peg was n't a witch , but it was best to be on the safe side . Finally we came to the lane which led directly to her abode . We were all very pale now , and our hearts were beating . The red September sun hung low between the tall spruces to the west . It did not look to me just right for a sun . In fact , everything looked uncanny . I wished our errand were well over . A sudden bend in the lane brought us out to the little clearing where Peg 's house was before we were half ready to see it . In spite of my fear I looked at it with some curiosity . It was a small , shaky building with a sagging roof , set amid a perfect jungle of weeds .
To our eyes , the odd thing about it was that there was no entrance XXXXX the ground floor , as there should be in any respectable house .
Of amid beyond but by in near on past through