the Strawberry-Girl. In the course of time the Strawberry-Girl grew to
be the most beautiful young woman in the country, but her mind was not
bright. In fact, I have heard my mother say that the Strawberry-Girl
was as stupid and as silly as she could be, but she was so beautiful
that people were inclined to forgive her for being stupid.
"Granny Grim-Eye used to send her with strawberries to sell to the
rich man who owned nearly all the land in that part of the country.
Now, this rich man fell in love with the Strawberry-Girl, but when he
found that she was both stupid and silly he gave up all thought of
marrying her. He was very fond of her, nevertheless, and bought all
the berries she had for sale. But when she began to talk he would turn
away with a sigh, for everything she said was stupid.
"It so happened one day that Granny Grim-Eye was too sick to pick the
strawberries herself, as she always had done, and she was afraid to
trust the Strawberry-Girl to pick them. But the rich man sent word
that he was to have a company of friends to dinner and he must have
some strawberries. There was nothing for Granny Grim-Eye to do but to
send the Strawberry-Girl to the patch. Granny Grim-Eye called her up
and cautioned her not to pick anything but good, ripe strawberries,
and then sent her off to the patch.
"But on the way the Strawberry-Girl saw some red berries growing on
bushes, and these she picked and put in the basket until it was full.
'These are just as red as ripe strawberries,' she said, 'and they will
do just as well. Besides, they are a great deal easier to pick.'
"The way to the rich man's house led through a very thick wood, and
while the Strawberry-Girl was going through this wood a little old man
stepped from a hollow tree and stood in the path before her.
"'Aha!' says he, 'I find you alone at last. Where are you going, and
what have you got?'
[Illustration: THE LITTLE OLD MAN DISCOVERS THE STRAWBERRY-GIRL]
"'I am carrying some strawberries to your master,' says the
Strawberry-Girl, who imagined that the rich man was everybody's
master.
"'My master!' cries the little old man; 'my master! But if he were my
master, and I wanted to get rid of him, I'd not get in your path, for
every berry in your basket is rank poison.'
"'Well, anyhow, they are red,' says the stupid Strawberry-Girl.
"'So they are,' says the little old man. 'But if you want to kill your
master carry them to him.'
"'Oh, I don't want to kill him,' says the Strawberry-Girl. 'He pays
too well.'
"'Once you belonged to me,' says the little old man. 'I tied you to a
blackberry-bush with a fine silver chain, and left you there until I
could attend to some business in the city. When I came back you were
gone. I hunted for you high and low only to hear that you had been
found by Granny Grim-Eye. What is the result? You have grown up
beautiful and stupid. After all these years you don't know a
strawberry from a dragon's-apple. If you had remained with me you
would have grown to be the most beautiful as well as the wittiest
woman in the world. You would have known everything that is hidden in
nature--everything that has been stored between the lids of all the
books. It is a great pity!'
"'Yes,' says the stupid Strawberry-Girl, 'I expect it is; but what
must I do with these berries? I haven't time to pick more.'
"'Well,' says the little old man, 'I'll make a bargain with you. I'll
fill your basket with the finest berries that were ever seen, and I'll
make you the wittiest woman in the world if at the end of one year you
will marry me.'
"The stupid Strawberry-Girl gave her promise, and then the little old
man touched her on the forehead with his left thumb, pointed at a
bright star with his right forefinger, and then went back to his
hollow tree, warning the girl not to forget her promise.
"When she looked in the basket the red dragon's-apples had
disappeared, and in their place she saw the finest strawberries that
had ever been grown. These she carried to the rich man, who was as
much surprised at the size and lusciousness of the berries as his
guests were at the extraordinary beauty of the young girl. They
praised her beauty to their host, who shook his head and said that
beauty ceased to be beautiful when it was tied to stupidity. The
guests, however, would not believe that so beautiful a creature could
be stupid, and to satisfy them the rich man sent for the girl and
engaged her in conversation. Her replies were so wise, so apt, and so
witty, as to astound all the company, while the rich man was
dumfounded with astonishment.
"After that, when the Strawberry-Girl came with berries for sale, the
rich man always sent for her, and her wit and intelligence were so
pleasing to him that he finally asked her to be his wife. But she
remembered the bargain she had made with the little old man who had
met her in the wood, and she told the rich man that she would have to
take time to consider his proposal.
"She was very much worried. She fretted until she began to lose some
of her beauty, and when Granny Grim-Eye saw this she began to ask
questions, and it was not long before she found out all about the
bargain the Strawberry-Girl had made with the little Old Man of the
Wood.
"'Oho!' she cried. 'He is up to his old tricks, is he? Well, we shall
see!'
"So she went to her chest and got the silver chain with which the
Strawberry-Girl had been fastened to the blackberry-bush, and wrapped
and twined it in the shape of a star. This star she fixed on the
Strawberry-Girl's forehead by means of a velvet band, and told her to
wear it constantly.
"It happened that on the very day the year expired the Strawberry-Girl
was walking through the wood. The little old man jumped from his
hollow tree and ran forward to claim his bride. But when he saw the
star shining on her forehead he gave a loud cry, threw his hands
before his eyes, and turned and fled through the wood faster than any
deer could have done. Nobody ever saw him again, and the
Strawberry-Girl married the rich man and lived happily for many long
years."
"I think that is a nice story," said Sweetest Susan.
"I'm glad you do," remarked Mr. Thimblefinger. "My mother knew all the
facts in the case, and I've heard her tell it many a time. I may have
left out some of the happenings, but these and many others you can
supply for yourself."
XIV.
THE WITCH OF THE WELL.
While Mr. Thimblefinger was telling the story of the Strawberry-Girl,
Chickamy Crany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes had drawn near to listen.
Chickamy Crany Crow stood near Mrs. Meadows, and seemed to be very
much interested. When Mr. Thimblefinger had concluded, she would have
gone away, but Mrs. Meadows detained her.
"No," said Mrs. Meadows, as Chickamy Crany Crow tried to pull her hand
away; "you must stay right here and tell the children the story of the
Witch of the Well."
"They know it already," said Chickamy Crany Crow, trying to hide
behind Mrs. Meadows's chair.
"No, we don't," exclaimed Buster John. "We know the old rhyme about
"'Chickamy, Chickamy Crany Crow,
Went to the well to wash her toe,
And when she came back her chicken was gone.'
That's the rhyme we say in the game, but we never heard the story."
"I can't tell it to so many," said Chickamy Crany Crow.
"Well, tell it to me, then," replied Mrs. Meadows coaxingly. "The rest
won't listen any more than they can help."
"Well," said Chickamy Crany Crow, "one time there was an old woman
that lived near a well. For a long time nobody thought she was a
witch, but after a while people began to have their suspicions. There
was a quagmire in the road right in front of the old woman's house,
and every traveler passing that way was sure to get mud on his feet.
No matter whether he was riding horseback or in a buggy, it was all
the same. He was sure to get his feet muddy. And the mud was so black,
and thick, and heavy, that he was anxious to get it off as soon as
possible.
"It happened, too, that every time a traveler crossed the quagmire,
after getting the black, heavy mud on his feet, the old woman would be
sitting in her door smoking a cob pipe.
"'Howdy, dearie!' she would say. 'Why, you're full of nasty mud! Go
to the well yonder, dearie, and wash it off.'
"The traveler would leave his buggy and horse, or his horse and
saddle, or his bundle at the old witch's door, and go to the well to
wash his feet. When he came back everything would be gone,--witch,
horse, buggy, saddle, or bundle. The quagmire would be dried up, and
the road itself would seem to be a different road. Sometimes it would
be days and days before the traveler could find his way to the place
where he started.
"One day a traveler came along the road in a fine carriage. With him
he had a beautiful little girl with long golden hair. She had eyes as
blue and as clear as the water in the spring when the sunshine slants
through, and her skin was as white as milk. When the carriage had
crossed the quagmire, the traveler found that his feet were covered
with the black, heavy mud. He couldn't imagine how it had happened.
There was no hole in the bottom of the carriage, the door was shut
tight, and there was no way for the mud to get in. He said to the
little girl:--
"'Daughter, are your feet muddy?'
"'Not a bit, father.'
"When the carriage crossed the quagmire, there sat the old woman in
the door.
"'Howdy, dearie!' says she. 'And how did you get the nasty mud on your
feet? Yonder is a well; leave your carriage here and go wash it off.'
"So the traveler kissed his daughter, for he was very fond of her, and
went to the well to wash his feet. When he came back, daughter,
carriage, and old woman had all disappeared. He wandered around like a
crazy man for many days, and at last came to where my mother lived and
told his story. This wasn't the first time she had heard such a tale,
and she concluded to see what the matter was. So she called me and
gave me a black chicken and told me to go by the old woman's house and
see what happened.
"I took the chicken, which was tied by the legs, and went along the
road until I came to the quagmire. I tried to pick my way around it,
but the black mud bubbled up and flew at my feet, and finally it
became so thick and heavy I could scarcely walk. When I got across,
there sat the old woman smoking her cob pipe and grinning.
"'Howdy, dearie!' says she.
"'Howdy, granny!' says I.
"'Leave your fat chicken here,' says she, 'and go to yonder well and
wash your toe.'
"'Thanky, granny; that I will,' says I.
"So I went to the well, but when I came back my chicken was gone. And
so was the old woman, and the quagmire. But I didn't get frightened. I
went back to the well and began to sing,--
"'Chickamy, Chickamy Crany Crow,
I went to the well to wash my toe,
But when I came back my chicken was gone--
What o'clock, old witch?'
"I hadn't been there long before the mud began to bubble up again, and
out of it came the old witch. And then what seemed to be a thick mist
cleared away, and there was the old witch's house, and inside I could
see the beautiful little girl crying for her father. I intended to run
home and tell what I had seen, but before I could move out of my
tracks I heard the old woman coming to the well. In coming up out of
the quagmire she had got mud on her feet. She had pulled off her shoes
for comfort, and had been going about in her stocking-feet, and of
course when she disappeared in the quagmire, and came up through it
again, her stockings were full of mud; and so she came to the well to
wash them.
"I didn't know whether to run or stay, but I stayed, and as soon as
the old woman got in sight, I sat on the ground and began to rock my
body backwards and forwards, crying,--
"'Oh, mercy me! Oh, what shall I do?
I can't get the black mud off of my shoe!'
"The old woman seemed to be very angry when she first saw me, but I
pretended to pay no attention to her. I just rocked backwards and
forwards, and cried that I couldn't get the black mud off of my shoe.
The old woman sat down and pulled off her stockings, and began to wash
them. When she had finished one, she threw it behind her on the grass
to dry. Being wet and heavy it fell farther from her hand than she
intended. It fell close to me, and I picked it up and stuffed it in my
pocket."
"What for?" asked Buster John bluntly.
"Well, I hardly know," replied Chickamy Crany Crow, somewhat
embarrassed at the suddenness of the question. "I wanted to get even
with her for stealing my fat chicken. I hardly knew what I was doing,
and I certainly didn't know how it would turn out. Well, I stuffed the
old woman's wet stocking in my pocket, and kept on crying out that I
didn't know how to get the black mud off of my shoe.
"'Do as I do,' said the old woman. Then I went and sat on the grass in
front of her, and washed the mud from my shoe.
"For the first time I saw what a horrible-looking creature the old
woman was. Her eyes were sunk in her head, her nose was hooked over
her mouth, and she had two long upper teeth that hung lower than her
under lip. I says to myself, 'Well, old lady, if you are not a witch,
there never was one.' She washed her stocking, mumbling and chewing,
and when she had finished she threw it behind her, and sat hugging her
knees, and glaring at me in a way that made my flesh crawl.
"'What is your name?' says she.
"'Chickamy Crany Crow,' says I.
"'What are you doing here?' says she.
"Says I, 'I went to the well to wash my toe, but when I came back my
chicken was gone.'
"Then the old woman began to laugh like a cackling hen, and she
laughed so loud and laughed so long that it scared me. I got up and
pretended to be going home, but when I had gone a little way I hid
behind a big tree, and watched the old woman's antics. She kept on
laughing for some time, and then she reached out for her stockings.
She found the only one she had left, and put it on. Then she reached
around for the other, but failed to find it, because I had it in my
pocket. This seemed to puzzle her. She stood up and looked all around
for her missing stocking, but it wasn't there. Then she sat down
again, pulled off the stocking she had on, and put it on the other
foot.
"But she still lacked a stocking. This seemed to puzzle the old witch
worse than ever. Once more she pulled off the stocking and put it on
the other foot, and appeared to be very much astonished because one
foot was still bare."
"She couldn't 'a' had much sense!" exclaimed Drusilla.
"Not about stockings and things like that," said Chickamy Crany Crow.
"Well, she sat there, pulling the stocking from one foot and putting
it on the other, until she seemed to forget about everything else. I
watched her until I got tired, and then I thought I would take her
missing stocking and throw it in the quagmire.
"The moment I did this, the quagmire began to bubble, and hiss, and
roll, and toss and tumble about, and soon it disappeared altogether. A
little fog arose when the quagmire sank out of sight, and when this
cleared away, there stood the carriage that had brought the beautiful
little girl with the golden hair, and the little girl herself was
sitting in it, ready to go to her father. But this wasn't all. All
around, there were numbers of horses and buggies, and all sorts of
bundles and money-purses, and everything that travelers carry along
with them.
"Well, I got in the carriage with the beautiful little girl, clucked
to the horses, and drove to my mother's house. All the horses with
saddles, and all the horses hitched to buggies, followed along after
us, and there was great rejoicing among the people as we went by."
"What became of the old witch?" asked Buster John.
"She stayed there, trying to make one stocking do for two feet, until
the well dried up, and after that I don't know what became of her."
"You ought to have been a young man," said Sweetest Susan, who had
been reading fairy stories, "so that you could have married the
beautiful girl with golden hair, after rescuing her. Besides, your
name would have been in the books."
"Oh," answered Chickamy Crany Crow, smiling for the first time, "there
are plenty of names in the books that you never hear of; but now,
wherever little children get together to play games, you will hear
them saying the rhyme that tells a part of my story,--
"'Chickamy, Chickamy Crany Crow,
Went to the well to wash her toe,
But when she got back her chicken was gone.'"
[Illustration: THE GOLDEN-HAIRED, BEAUTIFUL LITTLE GIRL]
XV.
THE BEWITCHED HUNTSMAN.
"There used to be a great many more witches than there are now,"
remarked Mr. Thimblefinger. "I reckon it's because folks have more
business of their own to attend to; or, it may be a change in the
climate. I hear old people say that the winters are colder now than
they used to be, and the summers hotter. Maybe that has something to
do with it. Anyhow, something has happened to thin the witches out."
"Yes," said Mr. Rabbit; "I've noticed that they are scarcer than they
used to be, but I never inquired into the whys and wherefores. They
never bothered me, and I never bothered them."
"Well, when I first came here," said Mr. Thimblefinger, "I noticed
Jimmy Jay-Bird bringing sand and mortar every Friday, and it occurred
to me that he was preparing to lay the foundations of a witch's house
in this country. So I says to myself, says I, 'I'll keep an eye on
Jimmy, and see where he gets in and out; for, surely, he doesn't come
by way of the spring.' But Jimmy Jay-Bird was pretty slick, and it was
some time before I found out where he came down and went out. By some
means or other, he had discovered the big hollow poplar on the spring
branch, and he was coming and going that way."
"I know where it is," said Buster John.
"Yes," replied Mr. Thimblefinger. "It is the oldest and the biggest
tree in the whole country next door. But as soon as I found that Jimmy
Jay-Bird was using it as a passageway, I drove a peg in the hole and
put an end to his schemes, whatever they may have been. I don't know
where he carries his sand and mortar now, and I don't care.
"But I didn't start out to tell anything about Jimmy Jay-Bird,"
continued Mr. Thimblefinger, after pausing a moment. "I was thinking
about the way a witch was caught by a boy no bigger and not much older
than our young friend here."
"Tell us about it, please!" cried Buster John enthusiastically.
"Well," said Mr. Thimblefinger, "it's not much of a story. You can't
take a handful of facts and make a story of them unless you know how
to fling them together. The best I can do is to tell it just as it
happened as near as I can remember.
"When I was a little bit of a fellow--now don't laugh!" cried Mr.
Thimblefinger, seeing Mr. Rabbit wink at Mrs. Meadows,--"I mean when I
was in my teens. Well, when I was younger than I am now, an old witch
lived not far from our house. Her eyes were red around the rims, and
her eyeballs looked as if they had been boiled. Everybody called her
Peggy Pig-Eye, and she answered to that name about as well as she did
to any other. Near her house there lived a man who had a wife and a
son. He was a tolerably well-to-do man, and all the neighbors thought
very well of him. But he used to go to town every sale-day, and at
night he would come home feeling very gay. I don't know what there was
in town to make him feel so gay, but I know that he used to come by
our house singing at the top of his voice and cutting up all sorts of
shines.
"Well, one night when he was going back home whooping and yelling, he
saw something dark in the road before him, and he rode his horse at
it full tilt. The horse seemed to have little taste for such sport,
for he snorted and wanted to shy around the dark object. But the man
clapped spurs to the horse and drove him right at it. The black thing
ran, and the man spurred his horse after it. It ran down the road,
then across an old field and back into the road again, the man
pursuing it as hard as he could make his horse go. Finally it ran into
Peggy Pig-Eye's yard and under her house, and the man went clattering
after it. Just as he pulled his horse up (to keep the animal from
running broadside into the house) the door opened, and Peggy Pig-Eye
put her head out.
"'Oh, it's you, is it?' she cried. 'And you are after me, are you?
Very well!' With that she clapped the door to, and the man rode on
home, not feeling as lively as he had felt.
"Now, it happened that this man was a great hunter. He had a pack of
fine dogs, and he was very fond of them. He hunted deer with them by
day, and raccoons and 'possums by night. The first time he went
hunting after riding into Peggy Pig-Eye's yard was at night. He didn't
go very far from his house before his dogs struck a warm trail and
went scurrying towards the big swamp at a great rate. A negro, who
went along to carry the light and cut the tree down, shook his head
and declared the dogs were not barking to suit him. He said there was
more whine than growl to the noise they were making.
"Anyhow, the dogs went scurrying to the big swamp, and the man and the
negro followed as fast as they could. The dogs treed right at the edge
of the swamp, and when the man and the negro got there, they were
barking up a big poplar. The negro held his torch behind him so as to
'shine' in the raccoon's eyes,--if it was a raccoon,--but he could see
nothing.
"'Cut the tree down,' said the man.
"The negro shook his head, but he whacked away at the poplar with his
axe, and cut it so that it would fall away from the swamp. The tree
fell with a tremendous crash, and the dogs rushed into the top limbs,
followed by the man and the negro. But before they could wink their
eyes, something tall and white walked out, and cried:--
"'_You are always after me!_'
"The negro threw down the torch and the axe, and ran home as fast as
he could. The dogs tried hard to catch the white thing, whatever it
was, but as soon as they got near enough to bite it, they tucked their
tails between their legs and ran howling back to their master.
"This happened every time the man went out to hunt raccoons and
'possums. The dogs would strike a warm trail not far from the house,
run to the edge of the swamp, and bay up a tree, and then when the
tree was cut down, something tall and white would walk from the top
limbs, and cry out:
"'_You are always after me!_'
"The man thought it was very queer, but he wasn't frightened. He said
to himself that if he couldn't catch raccoons and 'possums, maybe he
could catch a fox. So he called up his dogs one morning just about
day, mounted his horse, and started out to catch a fox. Before they
had gone a hundred yards from the house, the dogs found a warm trail
and began to follow it in lively style. The man spurred his horse
after them and harked them on. They ran around in a wide circle, and
presently something white flitted by the man, with the dogs after it
in full cry. As it went by it screamed out:--
"'_You are always after me!_'
"Then it disappeared, and after a while the dogs came back, panting as
hard as if they had run forty miles. The man went back home and sat by
the fire and studied about it, and the more he studied the worse he
was troubled. He sat so long without saying anything that his little
boy asked him what the matter was, but the man shook his head, and
said there were some things that children ought not to know. The boy
was fourteen years old, and very small for his age, but he had plenty
of sense, and was very brave. He told his mother that his father was
in some deep trouble, and begged her to find out what it was, and tell
him about it.
"So the little boy's mother set herself to work to find out what was
troubling her husband. She pressed him so hard with questions that he
finally told her about his strange adventures while out hunting. The
wife was so frightened that she begged her husband not to go hunting
any more, but to give up his dogs and attend to business that was not
so dangerous.
"The man promised that he would hunt no more raccoons or 'possums or
foxes, but he said he needed his dogs to hunt deer. The woman told
her son all that her husband had said to her, and after that the
little boy made it a habit to go off in the woods and sit at the foot
of a big chestnut-tree, and wonder what it was that ran before his
father's dogs.
"Matters went on this way until finally one day the man said he would
go out and catch a deer. He called his dogs, especially Old Top, the
oldest one of all. Top was a big hound, and hunted nothing else but
deer, and he was never known to fail to run down and catch the deer he
got after. Old Top went along when he was called, but it was very
plain to the little boy, who was watching, that he didn't go
willingly. Anyhow, Old Top went, though he looked back at the little
boy and wagged his tail knowingly more than once.