"So she went to her chest and got the silver chain with which the Strawberry-Girl had been fastened to the blackberry-bush, and wrapped and twined it in the shape of a star. This star she fixed on the Strawberry-Girl's forehead by means of a velvet band, and told her to wear it constantly. "It happened that on the very day the year expired the Strawberry-Girl was walking through the wood. The little old man jumped from his hollow tree and ran forward to claim his bride. But when he saw the star shining on her forehead he gave a loud cry, threw his hands before his eyes, and turned and fled through the wood faster than any deer could have done. Nobody ever saw him again, and the Strawberry-Girl married the rich man and lived happily for many long years." "I think that is a nice story," said Sweetest Susan. "I'm glad you do," remarked Mr. Thimblefinger. "My mother knew all the facts in the case, and I've heard her tell it many a time. I may have left out some of the happenings, but these and many others you can supply for yourself." XIV. THE WITCH OF THE WELL. While Mr. Thimblefinger was telling the story of the Strawberry-Girl, Chickamy Crany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes had drawn near to listen. Chickamy Crany Crow stood near Mrs. Meadows, and seemed to be very much interested. When Mr. Thimblefinger had concluded, she would have gone away, but Mrs. Meadows detained her. "No," said Mrs. Meadows, as Chickamy Crany Crow tried to pull her hand away; "you must stay right here and tell the children the story of the Witch of the Well." "They know it already," said Chickamy Crany Crow, trying to hide behind Mrs. Meadows's chair. "No, we don't," exclaimed Buster John. "We know the old rhyme about "'Chickamy, Chickamy Crany Crow, Went to the well to wash her toe, And when she came back her chicken was gone.' That's the rhyme we say in the game, but we never heard the story." "I can't tell it to so many," said Chickamy Crany Crow. "Well, tell it to me, then," replied Mrs. Meadows coaxingly. "The rest won't listen any more than they can help." "Well," said Chickamy Crany Crow, "one time there was an old woman that lived near a well. For a long time nobody thought she was a witch, but after a while people began to have their suspicions. There was a quagmire in the road right in front of the old woman's house, and every traveler passing that way was sure to get mud on his feet. No matter whether he was riding horseback or in a buggy, it was all the same. He was sure to get his feet muddy. And the mud was so black, and thick, and heavy, that he was anxious to get it off as soon as possible. "It happened, too, that every time a traveler crossed the quagmire, after getting the black, heavy mud on his feet, the old woman would be sitting in her door smoking a cob pipe. "'Howdy, dearie!' she would say. 'Why, you're full of nasty mud! Go to the well yonder, dearie, and wash it off.'