in; sing, wheel, sing;
Every stone in my yard, spin, spin, spin;
The thread is hers, the wool is mine;
Twelve drops from her heart will make my leaves shine!
How little she knows, the foolish thing,
That my name is Bolg and Curr and Carr,
That my name is Lurr and Lappie.

"O sing that song again," said Bloom-of-Youth, "Sing that song again."

Her husband sang it again, and Bloom-of-Youth went to bed, singing to
herself.--

My name is Bolg and Curr and Carr,
My name is Lurr and Lappie.

The next day as soon as her husband had gone to his hunting
Bloom-of-Youth went through the wood and towards the Big Stones that
were at the other side of it. And as she went through the wood she
sang.--

Spin, wheel, spin; sing, wheel, sing;
Every branch on the tree, spin, spin, spin;
The wool is hers, the thread is fine;
For loss of my heart's blood I'll never dwine;
Her name is Bolg and Curr and Carr,
Her name is Lurr and Lappie.

She went singing until she was through the wood and near the Big
Stones. She went within the circle. There, besides a flat stone that
was on the ground, she saw the black and crooked old woman.

"You have come to me, Bloom-of-Youth," said she. "Do you see the
hollow that is in this stone? It is into this hollow that the drops of
your heart's blood will have to run."

"The drops of my heart's blood may remain my own."

"No, no, they won't remain your own any longer than when it is plain
you can't tell my name."

"Is it Bolg?" said Bloom-of-Youth.

"Bolg is one of my names," screamed the Witch of the Elders, "but one
of my names won't let you go free."

"Is it Curr?"

"Curr is another of my names, but two of my names won't let you go
free."

"Is it Carr?"

"Carr is another of my names, but three of my names will not let you
go free."

"I know your other names too," said Bloom-of-Youth.

"Say them, say them," screamed the Witch of the Elders.

But when she tried to think of them Bloom-of-Youth found that the last
two names had gone out of her mind. Not for all the drops that were in
her heart could she remember them.

"No, no, you can't say them," said the Witch of the Elders. "And now
bend your breast over the hollow in the stone. I'll let out twelve
drops of your heart's blood with my pointed rod. Bend your breast over
the hollow."

[Illustration: But just as the Witch was dragging her to the stone a
robin began to sing.]