."

"What did you dream about, mother?"

"I dreamt about a city where they had a well of living water. If any
one drank of it, no matter how sick he was, he would get well. Nay, if
he were already dead, this water, sprinkled on him, would bring him
back to life. For the last twenty years the well has gone dry. Is
there anything to be done to make it flow again?"

"Yes. There's a frog sitting on the spring that feeds the well. Let
them kill the frog and clean out the well and the water will flow as
before."

When he fell asleep again the old woman pulled out another golden hair
and threw it on the floor.

"What is it, mother?"

"Nothing, my boy, nothing. I was asleep again and I had a wonderful
dream. I dreamt of a city where they had an apple-tree that bore
apples of youth. If any one ate one of those apples, no matter how
aged he was, he'd become young again. But for twenty years the tree
has borne no fruit. Can anything be done about it?"

"Yes. In the roots of the tree there is a snake that takes its
strength. Let them kill the snake and transplant the tree. Then it
will bear fruit as before."

He fell asleep again and the old woman pulled out a third golden hair.

"Why won't you let me sleep, mother?" he complained, and started to
sit up.

"Lie still, my boy, lie still. I didn't intend to wake you, but a
heavy sleep fell upon me and I had another wonderful dream. I dreamt
of a boatman on the black sea. For twenty years he has been ferrying
that boat and no one has offered to relieve him. When will he be
relieved?"

"Ah, but that boatman is the son of a stupid mother! Why doesn't he
thrust the oar into the hand of some one else and jump ashore himself?
Then the other man would have to be ferryman in his place. But now let
me be quiet. I must get up early tomorrow morning and go and dry the
tears which the king's daughter sheds every night for her husband, the
charcoal-burner's son, whom the king has sent to get three of my
golden hairs."

In the morning there was again the rushing sound of a mighty wind
outside and a beautiful golden child--no longer an old man--awoke on
his mother's lap. It was the glorious Sun. He bade his mother farewell
and flew out by an eastern window.

The old woman turned over the tub and said to Plavachek: "Here are the
three golden hairs for you. You also have Grandfather Knowitall's
answers to your three questions. Now good-by. As you will need me no
more, you will never