"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 grouse."
"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.
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