much better."

"Alas!" said the woman, "who would give a penny for them? They are but
common leaves, and good for nothing."

"Be advised, my good woman," said Rubezahl; "throw away those you have
got, and follow me."

He repeated his injunction over and over again in vain, until he got
tired, for the woman would not be persuaded. At last, he fairly laid
hold of the basket, threw the herbs out by main force, and supplied
their place with leaves from the surrounding bushes. When he had
finished, he told the woman to go home, and led her into the right
path.

The woman, with her children and her basket, journeyed on some
distance; but they had not gone far before she saw some valuable herbs
growing by the wayside. No sooner did she perceive them than she
longed to gather them, for she hoped that she should obtain something
for them, while the leaves with which her basket was crammed were, she
thought, good for nothing. She accordingly emptied her basket,
throwing away the rubbish, as she esteemed it, and having filled it
once more with roots, journeyed on to her dwelling at Kirschdorf.

As soon as she arrived at her home she cleansed the roots she had
gathered from the earth which clung around them, tied them neatly
together, and emptied everything out of the basket. Upon doing this,
something glittering caught her eye, and she commenced to make a
careful examination of the basket. She was surprised to discover
several ducats sticking to the wickerwork, and these were clearly such
of the leaves as remained of those which she had so thoughtlessly
thrown away on the mountains.

She rejoiced at having preserved what she had, but she was again
sorely vexed that she had not taken care of all that the mountain
spirit had gathered for her. She hastened back to the spot where she
had emptied the basket, in hopes of finding some of the leaves there;
but her search was in vain--they had all vanished.

THE HUNTER HACKELNBERG AND THE TUT-OSEL.

The Wild Huntsman, Hackelnberg, traverses the Hartz mountains and the
Thuringian forest, but he seems mostly to prefer the Hakel, from which
place he derives his name, and especially the neighbourhood of
Dummburg. Ofttimes is he heard at night, in rain and storm, when the
moonlight is breaking by fits and starts through the troubled sky,
following with his hounds the shadows of the wild beasts he slew in
days of yore. His retinue generally proceed from the Dummburg,
straight