re, Jill had to take the bags down to the vault, empty them in
the casks, and get a further supply of bags for the next day. And so
it went on for a year and a day.

* * * * * *

At the end of that time the numberless casks in the vault were all
full; the last to be filled being those labelled "Drinking-water
Possible," and "Reservoirs Old Fruity."

On the last evening the old Witch was in high spirits. "You have
worked well, my pretty dear," she said to Jill. "Go home now and enjoy
yourself," and she approached Jill as if to kiss her. But Jill fled
out of the door and through the gate-posts on to the hill outside.

She had never been outside the Witch's cottage since the day she came,
but she had often thought of the village street as she had seen it
last--cool and green and shady, with the babbling stream and chattering
ducks at the foot of the hill.

When she got outside the fence she stopped suddenly.

What had happened to the village?

It looked brown and baked and dusty. The sun was intolerably hot.
There was not a field to be seen, nothing but a wide dreary desert of
sand stretching on either side of the sun-baked houses. A few rotting
stumps by the roadside told where once the shady trees had been. As
Jill went slowly down the hill she looked into the little dried-up
yards that had once been gardens. Oh, how dusty it was! The stream
had disappeared, some bleaching bones told of the poor ducks' fate.

"Oh, I am thirsty!" said Jill as she went on down the hill to her own
cottage.

A dirty, thin, brown-skinned, weak-looking boy was lying in the porch.

"Jill," he said feebly.

"Is that you, Jack?"

"Yes, have you brought us any water?"

"Me, no; I was just going to ask you for a drink. I am so thirsty."

Jack smiled feebly. "There isn't any," he said.

Jill went indoors. A dirty table-cloth was spread on the dusty table.

"Ugh!" she said, coming out again, "isn't there any milk?"

"No," said Jack. "You see there is no grass for the cows. Where's the
water gone?" he cried, raising himself from his chair, "that's what I
want to know. I wish it would rain. My word, wouldn't I hang my
tongue out to catch the raindrops," and he sank back again exhausted.

"The water?" said Jill, suddenly realising what that year with the old
Witch had meant. "Why the old Witch has got it all! Her casks are
full of it! But she will never let us have it back again."