really?" said Rachel; "that is quite surprising. Did you dream
this before twelve o'clock or after?" "O it was this morning, just
before I awoke." "Then I am sure it is true, for morning dreams
always go by contraries," cried Rachel. "How lucky it was you
dreamed it so late." Mrs. Jenkins could hardly contain her joy, and
asked how the money was to be come at. "There is but one way," said
Rachel: "I must go into the cellar. I know by my art under which
stone it lies, but I must not tell." Then they both went down into
the cellar, but Rachel refused to point out the stone unless Mrs.
Jenkins would put five pieces of gold into a basin and do as she
directed. The simple woman, instead of turning her out of doors for
a cheat, did as she was bid. She put the guineas into a basin which
she gave into Rachel's hand. Rachel strewed some white powder over
the gold, muttered some barbarous words, and pretended to perform
the black art. She then told Mrs. Jenkins to put the basin quietly
down within the cellar; telling her that if she offered to look into
it, or even to speak a word, the charm would be broken. She also
directed her to lock the cellar door, and on no pretense to open it
in less than forty-eight hours. "If," added she, "you closely follow
these directions, then, by the power of my art, you will find the
basin conveyed to the very stone under which the money lies hid, and
a fine treasure it be!" Mrs. Jenkins, who firmly believed every word
the woman said, did exactly as she was told, and Rachel took her
leave with a handsome reward.

When Farmer Jenkins came home he desired his wife to draw him a cup
of cider; this she put off so long that he began to be displeased.
At last she begged he would be so good as to drink a little beer
instead. He insisted on knowing the reason, and when at last he
grew angry, she told him all that had passed; and owned that as the
pot of gold had happened to be in the cider cellar, she did not dare
open the door, as she was sure it would break the charm. "And it
would be a pity you know," said she, "to lose a good fortune for the
sake of a draught of cider." The farmer, who was not so easily
imposed upon, suspected a trick. He demanded the key, and went and
opened the cellar door; there he found the basin, and in it five
round pieces of tin covered with powder. Mrs. Jenkins burst out
a-crying; but the farmer thought of nothing but of getting a warrant
to apprehend the cunning woman. Indee