ut 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. Then the old hag was in a dreadful
rage, and said, "If he makes himself ever so heavy next time, he
shan't take me in again."

The third day everything went just as it had gone twice before;
Goldtooth began to bark, and Buttercup's mother said to him,

"Do run out and see what our dog is barking at."

So out he went, but he soon came back crying out,

"Heaven save us! Here comes the old hag again with her head under her
arm and a sack at her back."

"Jump under the kneading-trough and hide," said his mother.

"Good day!" said the hag, as she came in at the door; "is your
Buttercup at home to-day?"

"You're very kind to ask after him," said his mother; "but he's out in
the wood with his father, shooting grouse."

"What a bore, now," said the old hag; "here have I got such a
beautiful little silver fork for him."

"Pip, pip! here I am," said Buttercup, as he came out from under the
kneading-trough.

"I'm so stiff in the back," said the hag, "you must creep into the
sack and fetch it out for yourself."

But when Buttercup was well inside the sack the old hag swung it
across her shoulders, and set off as fast as she could. This time she
did not turn aside to sleep by the way, but went straight home with
Buttercup in the sack, and when she reached her house it was Sunday.

So the old hag said to her daughter:

"Now you must take Buttercup and kill him, and boil him nicely till I
come back, for I'm off to church to bid my guests to dinner."

So, when all in the house were gone to church, the daughter was to
take Buttercup and kill him, but then she didn't know how to set about
it at all.

"Stop a bit," said Buttercup; "I'll soon show you how to do it; just
lay your head on the chopping-block, and you'll soon see."

So the poor silly thing laid her head down, and Buttercup took an axe
and chopped her head off, just as if she had been a chicken. Then he
laid her head in the bed, and popped her body into the pot, and boiled
it so nicely; and when he had done that, he climbed up on the roof,
and dragged up with him the fir-tree root and the stone,