he was a good boy, a fine boy. 'But
there is more to be done,' said the little old man,--'a great deal
more. And you will have to go alone. I can help you, but I can't be
with you.'

"Then he found the ivory bobbins, rewound the silver wire, which
seemed to spin out still longer, and gave them to Three Wits. 'Take
these,' he said, 'and go to the witch's house.'

"'Do you mean Peggy Pig-Eye's house?' asked Three Wits.

"'Why, of course.' replied the little old man. 'Her right name, as you
saw by the book, is Paggia Paggiola, but people call her Peggy Pig-Eye
for short. Go to her house, throw one of the bobbins over the roof,
and then throw one around each end. Throw quick and hard, and, as you
throw, cry out,--

"'Bibbity bobbity bobbin,
Go hibbity hob hobnobbin.'

"'But wait!' cried the little old man. 'You may need these dogs.' He
took a wisp of the witch's hair, and whipped them back to life. And
maybe you'll need a horse to ride. So he went into the woods where the
Stag lay dead, and whipped him to his feet with the witch's hair.

"'This is your horse,' he said to Three Wits. But the boy was afraid
to mount the Stag. 'Be bold!' cried the little old man; 'all depends
on that! Give me your foot. There you are! Loop the silver wire over
his horns, and touch him with the bobbin the way you want him to go.
He'll carry you safely. Good-by! Be bold!'

"Following the little old man's directions, Three Wits was soon
cantering down the road on the Stag's back. The dogs seemed to take
everything for granted, and followed along after the Stag as readily
as if he had been their master's horse. But travelers who chanced to
be going along the road went into the wood when they saw a boy riding
a big Stag. They were not used to such a queer sight.

"The spirits of Three Wits rose as he went along. Everything had
turned out so happily, and the Stag moved along so gracefully and
easily that Three Wits felt quite like a hero.

"He went ambling along the road, the people staring at him, until he
came to the witch's house. Everything was quiet there. The windows and
doors were closed, and the only sign of life about the place was a big
black cat that sat on the water-shelf. Three Wits rode the Stag around
the house three times. Then over the roof he threw a bobbin. To the
right he threw another, and to the left another. The silver wire
seemed to whirl until it became a tangle of wire all over the house.
The big black