"The traveler would leave his buggy and horse, or his horse and saddle, or his bundle at the old witch's door, and go to the well to wash his feet. When he came back everything would be gone,--witch, horse, buggy, saddle, or bundle. The quagmire would be dried up, and the road itself would seem to be a different road. Sometimes it would be days and days before the traveler could find his way to the place where he started. "One day a traveler came along the road in a fine carriage. With him he had a beautiful little girl with long golden hair. She had eyes as blue and as clear as the water in the spring when the sunshine slants through, and her skin was as white as milk. When the carriage had crossed the quagmire, the traveler found that his feet were covered with the black, heavy mud. He couldn't imagine how it had happened. There was no hole in the bottom of the carriage, the door was shut tight, and there was no way for the mud to get in. He said to the little girl:-- "'Daughter, are your feet muddy?' "'Not a bit, father.' "When the carriage crossed the quagmire, there sat the old woman in the door. "'Howdy, dearie!' says she. 'And how did you get the nasty mud on your feet? Yonder is a well; leave your carriage here and go wash it off.' "So the traveler kissed his daughter, for he was very fond of her, and went to the well to wash his feet. When he came back, daughter, carriage, and old woman had all disappeared. He wandered around like a crazy man for many days, and at last came to where my mother lived and told his story. This wasn't the first time she had heard such a tale, and she concluded to see what the matter was. So she called me and gave me a black chicken and told me to go by the old woman's house and see what happened. "I took the chicken, which was tied by the legs, and went along the road until I came to the quagmire. I tried to pick my way around it, but the black mud bubbled up and flew at my feet, and finally it became so thick and heavy I could scarcely walk. When I got across, there sat the old woman smoking her cob pipe and grinning. "'Howdy, dearie!' says she. "'Howdy, granny!' says I. "'Leave your fat chicken here,' says she, 'and go to yonder well and wash your toe.' "'Thanky, granny; that I will,' says I. "So I went to the well, but when I came back my chicken was gone. And so was the old woman, and the quagmire. But I didn't get frightened. I went back to the well and began to sing,-- "'Chickamy, Chickamy Crany Crow, I went to the well to wash my toe, But when I came back my chicken was gone-- What o'clock, old witch?'