Broomstick

If you're really a witch, where's your broomstick?

This is a magic broomstick.

The witch mounted her broomstick and flew off into the sky.

Mary mounted her broomstick and flew off into the sky.

Mary flew off on her broomstick.

Mary nearly fell off her broomstick.

Tom had never flown on a broomstick before.

Of all the witches that may be found in all the fairy tales ever told there is none more delightfully sociable than the Sand Witch. This Witch, who lives underneath the heaps of sand at the ocean's edge, where, in the summertime, you dig with your shovel, is not at all like other witches. She never rides on a broomstick, and she never goes down chimneys. In the first place there are no broomsticks or chimneys on the beach at the sea-shore, and in the second place she would not know how to ride on a broomstick or climb down a chimney, if there were. All the Sand Witch knows how to do is to sink into the sand when anything scares her, and to come up through the sand when she sees a chance to get acquainted with a person she never was acquainted with before. So now you know what a Sand Witch is. And if Junior Jenks, seven years old, and dreadfully sunburnt, had known what you know, he would have been much better prepared to face the one that came up right under his nose all of a sudden one hot July morning.

It's hard to do ballet if you're as rigid as a broomstick.

Witches of all ages attended these lively gatherings by flying away on their broomsticks[.]