When they come up to un the stones seemed to oppen, an' they went inside an' found un like a house. But that was hunderds o' years ago. The owld Quoit now es more like a crellas, though 'a still got a bra' gayte rock for a roof. Anyhow, they went in, 'cordin' to the story; an' there they lived for a number o' years. But, somehow, when they was wance got in, the youngster cudn' git out agen nohow. 'A cud geek through the cracks, an' see the country an' the people, but the stones wedn' oppen, an' 'a cudn' git out. But the owld black witch keeped 'es promise to un, an' tayched un all that 'a wanted to knaw. The craws that croaked on the Quoit in the sunshine, an' the sparrers an' wagtails an' awther kinds o' birds that come flittin' round an' cheepin' to ayche awther, the owld witch tayched un ('cordin' to the story) to onderstaand everything any of 'em said. Well, at laast 'a got so cliver, ded the youngster, that there warn't no bird but what 'a cud talk to; from the owld black raven, wha's all'ys cryin' "_corpse!_" to the putty li'l robins what wedn' hurt a worm. But aw! lor' Jimmeny! warn't 'a disappointed when 'a found what 'a'd ben so hankerin' arter warn't wuth givin' a snail's shill to knaw. He'd ben thinkin', 'fore 'a cud onderstaand them, that what they'd be talkin' about to ayche awther wed be somethin' cureyus an' mighty cliver, all sorts o' strange owld saycrets, s'pose. But 'a found, when 'a come to spayke their language, that instead o' tellin' 'bout haypes o' treasures, an' hunted housen, an' owld queer ways, they was all the time talkin' 'bout their mait or their nestes, an' awther silly jabber like that. So 'a was mighty disappointed, an' got very law-sperrited, though 'a dedn' like to confess it to the witch. An' now, thinks the youngster, he'd like to go home agen: an' shaw off 'fore the nayburs, s'pose. "Well, thee cust go," says the owld witch, grinnin'. "An' what must I pay'ee for taychin' me?" says the youngster. "Nawthin', sonny! Nawthin' at all!" says the witch. "I shall git me reward in a way o' me awn." An' weth that 'a bust out laughin' agen. Well, anyway, the lad, accordin' to the story, wished un "_good-bye_," an' trudged off home. But aw! poor dear! when 'a got to Zennor 'a nigh 'pon brok 'es heart weth grief. He'd ben livin' all alone weth the owld black witch, an' 'a hadn' took no note of what was passin', an' 'a thought 'a was still a youngster, simmin'ly: 'stead o' which 'a was graw'd to an owld, owld man, weth no more pith in 'es bones than a piskey; an' 'a cud hardly manage to crawl to Zennor, 'a was so owld an' palchy[J], an' nigh 'pon blind. An', wust of all, when 'a got to Zennor everywan who knaw'd un was dead an' gone! 'Es faather an' mawther was up in the churchyard, an' 'a hadn' got a single friend in the world!