ng-Pot had
an ill name in that neighbourhood.

To a lover's heart risk gives value; so one fine morning Tulip kissed
his mother, counted ten, and set out for the woods.

Towards evening he came to the house of the witch and knocked at the
door. 'Good mother,' said he, when she opened to him, 'I have brought
you the fee to buy myself a wish over the Wishing-Pot.' 'Ay, surely,'
answered the crone, and drew him in.

In one corner of the room stood a great crystal bowl. Nearly round it
was, and had a small opening at the top, to which a man might place
his eye and look in. To Tulip, as he looked at it, it seemed all
coloured fires and falling stars, and a soft crackling sound came
from it, as though heat burned in its veins. It threw long shapes and
lustres upon the walls, and within innumerable things writhed, and
ran, and whiffed in the floating of its vapours.

'You may have two wishes,' said the old witch, 'a one and a two.' And
she said the spell that undid the secret of the Pot to the wisher.

Then Tulip bent down his head and looked in, counting softly to
himself, and at ten, he let the wish go to his lady of the dear green
feet.

The colours changed and sprang, as though stirred and fed with fresh
fuel; and down in the depths of the Wishing-Pot he saw the feet of his
Beloved go by in twinkling green slippers.

As soon as he saw that he began counting ten in great haste for the
second wish. 'O to be inside the Wishing-Pot with her!' was his
thought now. He had got to nine, and the wish was almost on his
tongue, when he caught sight of the old woman's eye looking at him.
And the eye had become like a large green spider, with great long
limbs that kept clutching up and out again!

His heart queegled to a jelly at the sight; but the green feet lured
him so, that he still thought how to get to them and yet be safe.
Surely, to be in the Wishing-Pot and out by the sound of the next
Angelus became the shape of his wish. He shut his eyes, cried ten upon
the venture, and was in the Wishing-Pot!

The little green feet were trebling over the glass with a sound like
running water; and he himself began running at full speed, shot off
into the Wishing-Pot like a pellet from a pop-gun. Nothing could he
see of his dear but her wee green feet. But above them as they ran he
heard showery laughter, and he knew that his lady was there before
him, though invisible to the eye.

The Pot, now he was in it, seemed bigger than th