ed.

_The Magic Potato Plant_

Wry-Face was making a pie for his supper. Suddenly the room became
dark as dark. The darkness was not night coming on, for this was
summer-time and night never came on as quickly as all that.

"Dear me, what can be the matter?" thought Wry-Face; for he could
hardly see to finish making his pie.

Then he heard a little voice from his window, crying, "Here I am,
Wry-Face, here I am!" But he could not go out to see what it was yet
awhile.

Then the apple-pie was finished, and in the oven; and Wry-Face ran
outside as fast as he could. But he did not see the spell which
Oh-I-Am had placed by his door.

What he did see was a great potato-plant which had sprung up suddenly
close to his window, and was springing up farther still, high, high,
and higher.

"Good gracious me!" cried Wry-Face in a rage, "I never planted a
potato-plant there, not in my whole life! Now I should just like to
know what you are doing by my window?"

The potato-plant took no notice, but went on climbing high, high, and
higher; and ever so far above he heard a tiny faint voice crying:

"Here I am, Wry-Face, here I am!"

"Well, I never did!" cried Wry-Face, and he began to weep; for he saw
that the potato-plant would climb up to his roof and round his chimney
and he would never be able to get rid of it.

And he wept and wept.

At last he went in, and took his pie out of the oven, and set it in
the pantry, for it was quite done. And he found a spade, and went out,
and began to dig and dig at the root of the potato-plant. But his
digging did not seem to make any difference; and the evening began to
grow darker.

Wry-Face fetched his little lamp, which is named Bright-Beauty, and
which always burns without flickering. Then he went on digging, and he
dug, and dug, and dug.

And when he had dug for hours and hours, so that he was tired to
death, the potato-plant began suddenly to dwindle and dwindle. It
dwindled as fast as anything, the leaves disappeared, and the stem
disappeared and all the horrid stretching arms. They sank down, down,
and down, till at last there was nothing left at all but--a big brown
potato!

"Well, I do declare!" cried Wry-Face. "I should like to know what you
have to do with my fine garden!"

The potato replied, "I jumped here from the cart of One-Eye, the
potato-wife, and it is quite certain that, unless I am taken back to
her immediately, I shall start again, growing, and growing