So the mother put the little pot over the fire and put in water, which, indeed, was all that she had to put in. And soon the water in the pot began to bubble and to boil, and the little pot said: "I skip! I skip!" "How far do you skip, little Pot?" asked the mother. "I skip to the house of the rich man at the top of the hill," said the pot. And the little pot began to skip, skip, first on one of its three legs and then on another, skippity skip, skippity skip, until it came to the house of the rich man at the top of the hill, and it skipped right into the kitchen of the rich man's house where his wife was making a pudding. All at once she looked up and saw the little iron pot on the table, where it had skipped in at the window, and right in front of her, and she said: "Oh, where did you come from, little Pot? You are just what I want to put my pudding in." So she put the pudding into the little iron pot, and as soon as the pudding was in and safely covered up, the little pot began to skip, skip, first on one of its three legs and then on another, skippity skip, skippity skip, down the hill, and though the farmer's wife ran after, she could not catch it, and away it went straight to the little brown house at the bottom of the hill. So the little boy and his mother had pudding to eat for dinner. The next morning the little pot begged to be put on the fire, and as soon as the water began to bubble and to boil, it called, "I skip! I skip!" "How far do you skip, little Pot?" asked the mother. "I skip to the barn of the rich man at the top of the hill," said the little pot. And the little pot began to skip, skip, first on one of its three legs and then on another, skippity skip, skippity skip, until it came to the barn of the rich man at the top of the hill. And in the barn the thrashers were thrashing the wheat, and the little pot skipped right out on the thrashing floor. "Oh," said one of the men, "Where did you come from, little Pot? You are just the thing to hold some of this wheat." So the man began pouring the wheat into the pot, and poured and poured until the little pot seemed quite full, but still there was room, so the man poured until all the wheat was in the pot. Then the little pot began to skip, skip, first on one of its three legs and then on another, skippity skip, skippity skip, out of the barn and out on the road. And though all of the men ran after it they could not catch it, and it skipped down the hill to the little brown house. So the little boy and his mother had plenty of white bread to eat.