cket to eat at school. For this reason she
was called Prunella. Now, the orchard belonged to a witch. One day the
witch noticed the child gathering a plum, as she passed along the road.
Prunella did it quite innocently, not knowing that she was doing wrong
in taking the fruit that hung close to the roadside. But the witch was
furious, and next day hid herself behind the hedge, and when Prunella
came past, and put out her hand to pluck the fruit, she jumped out and
seized her by the arm.
'Ah! you little thief!' she exclaimed. 'I have caught you at last. Now
you will have to pay for your misdeeds.'
The poor child, half dead with fright, implored the old woman to
forgive her, assuring her that she did not know she had done wrong,
and promising never to do it again. But the witch had no pity, and she
dragged Prunella into her house, where she kept her till the time should
come when she could have her revenge.
As the years passed Prunella grew up into a very beautiful girl. Now her
beauty and goodness, instead of softening the witch's heart, aroused her
hatred and jealousy.
One day she called Prunella to her, and said: 'Take this basket, go to
the well, and bring it back to me filled with water. If you don't I will
kill you.'
The girl took the basket, went and let it down into the well again
and again. But her work was lost labour. Each time, as she drew up the
basket, the water streamed out of it. At last, in despair, she gave
it up, and leaning against the well she began to cry bitterly, when
suddenly she heard a voice at her side saying 'Prunella, why are you
crying?'
Turning round she beheld a handsome youth, who looked kindly at her, as
if he were sorry for her trouble.
'Who are you,' she asked, 'and how do you know my name?'
'I am the son of the witch,' he replied, 'and my name is Bensiabel. I
know that she is determined that you shall die, but I promise you that
she shall not carry out her wicked plan. Will you give me a kiss, if I
fill your basket?'
'No,' said Prunella, 'I will not give you a kiss, because you are the
son of a witch.'
'Very well,' replied the youth sadly. 'Give me your basket and I will
fill it for you.' And he dipped it into the well, and the water stayed
in it. Then the girl returned to the house, carrying the basket filled
with water. When the witch saw it, she became white with rage, and
exclaimed 'Bensiabel must have helped you.' And Prunella looked down,
and said nothing
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