“Oh, Heaven help us! here comes a great big witch, with her head under
her arm, and a bag at her back.”
“Jump under the kneading-trough and hide yourself,” said his mother.
So in came the old hag!
“Good day,” said she.
“God bless you,” said Buttercup’s mother.
“Isn’t your Buttercup at home to-day?” asked the hag.
“No, that he isn’t. He’s out in the wood with his father, shooting
ptarmigan.”
“Plague take it,” said the hag, “for I had such a nice little silver
knife I wanted to give him.”
“Pip, pip! here I am,” said Buttercup under the kneading-trough, and out
he came.
“I’m so old and stiff in the back,” said the hag, “you must creep into
the bag and fetch it out for yourself.”
But when Buttercup was well into the bag, the hag threw it over her back
and strode off, and when they had gone a good bit of the way, the old
hag got tired, and asked,—
“How far is it off to Snoring?”
“Half a mile,” answered Buttercup.
So the hag put down the sack on the road and went aside by herself into
the wood, and lay down to sleep. Meantime Buttercup set to work and cut
a hole in the sack with his knife; then he crept out and put a great
root of a fir-tree into the sack, and ran home to his mother.
When the hag got home and saw what there was in the sack, you may fancy
she was in a fine rage.
Next day the old wife sat and baked again, and her dog began to bark
just as he did the day before.
“Run out, Buttercup, my boy,” said she, “and see what Goldtooth is
barking at.”
“Well, I never!” cried Buttercup, as soon as he got out; “if there isn’t
that ugly old beast coming again with her head under her arm, and a
great sack at her back.”
“Under the kneading-trough with you and hide,” said his mother.
“Good day,” said the hag, “is your Buttercup at home to-day?”
“I’m sorry to say he isn’t,” said his mother; “he’s out in the wood with
his father shooting ptarmigan.”
“What a bore,” said the hag; “here I have a beautiful little silver
spoon I want to give him.”
“Pip, pip! here I am,” said Buttercup, and crept out.
“I’m so stiff in the back,” said the old witch “you must creep into the
sack and fetch it out for yourself.”
So when Buttercup, was well into the sack, the hag swung it over her
shoulders and set off home as fast as her legs could carry her. But when
they had gone a good bit, she grew weary, and asked,—
“How far is it off to Snoring?”
“A mile and a half,” answered Buttercup.
So the hag set down the sack, and went aside into the wood to sleep a
bit, but while she slept, Buttercup made a hole in the sack and got out,
and put a great stone into it. Now, when the old witch got home, she
made a great fire on the hearth, and put a big pot on it, and got
everything ready to boil Buttercup; but when she took the sack, and
thought she was going to turn out Buttercup into the pot, down plumped
the stone and made a hole in the bottom of the pot, so that the water
ran out and quenched the fire. Then the old hag was in a dreadful rage,
and said, “If he makes himself ever so heavy next time, he shan’t take
me in again.”
The third day everything went just as it had gone twice before;
Goldtooth began to bark, and Buttercup’s mother said to him,—
“Do run out and see what our dog is barking at.”