Witches could, on occasions, upset a day’s work. Once, early in the 20th century, W.H. Barrett was watching Ratty Porter, the Brandon Creek vermin-killer, as he was putting down ferrets along the bank by the main road to Littleport. Presently an old tramp woman came along and as she passed by she spat on the ferret box. Ratty pulled out the ferret from the rabbit burrow, took off its collar, placed the little animal in its box and then, slinging the box over his shoulder, picked up his spade and started off towards home. W.H. Barrett asked if he had finished for the day. ‘I’ve got to leave off, if I’m finished or not’ said Ratty, ‘because a ferret won’t work and a rabbit won’t bolt after they’ve been tudded by that old witch who’s just gone by.’