. Thou must be hung at
once."

But now she saw her sweetheart coming through the crowd, and he held
over his head in the air her own golden ball; so she said:

"Stop, stop, I see my sweetheart coming!
Sweetheart, hast brought my golden ball
And come to set me free?"

"Aye, I have brought thy golden ball
And come to set thee free,
I have not come to see thee hung
Upon this gallows-tree."

And he took her home, and they lived happy ever after.

My Own Self

In a tiny house in the North Countrie, far away from any town or
village, there lived not long ago, a poor widow all alone with her
little son, a six-year-old boy.

The house-door opened straight on to the hill-side and all round about
were moorlands and huge stones, and swampy hollows; never a house nor a
sign of life wherever you might look, for their nearest neighbours were
the "ferlies" in the glen below, and the "will-o'-the-wisps" in the long
grass along the pathside.

And many a tale she could tell of the "good folk" calling to each other
in the oak-trees, and the twinkling lights hopping on to the very window
sill, on dark nights; but in spite of the loneliness, she lived on from
year to year in the little house, perhaps because she was never asked to
pay any rent for it.

But she did not care to sit up late, when the fire burnt low, and no one
knew what might be about; so, when they had had their supper she would
make up a good fire and go off to bed, so that if anything terrible
_did_ happen, she could always hide her head under the bed-clothes.

This, however, was far too early to please her little son; so when she
called him to bed, he would go on playing beside the fire, as if he did
not hear her.

He had always been bad to do with since the day he was born, and his
mother did not often care to cross him; indeed, the more she tried to
make him obey her, the less heed he paid to anything she said, so it
usually ended by his taking his own way.

But one night, just at the fore-end of winter, the widow could not make
up her mind to go off to bed, and leave him playing by the fireside; for
the wind was tugging at the door, and rattling the window-panes, and
well she knew that on such a night, fairies and such like were bound to
be out and about, and bent on mischief. So she tried to coax the boy
into going at once to bed:

"The safest bed to bide in, such a night as this!" she said: but no, he