[116] A Yorkshire version, much debased, is given in the first edition of Henderson’s _Notes on the Folk-lore of the Northern Counties of England_, p. 333. It was collected by the Rev. S. Baring-Gould. The Glass House[117] [117] Told to me by Sarah Ellen Potter, aged 14, the daughter of Mr. George Potter, of Castleton, Derbyshire, in 1901. Compare Grimm’s _Kinder-und Haus Märchen_, No. 47, and Addy’s _Household Tales_, No. 10. There was a little girl selling oranges, and she went to a lady’s house, which was made of glass. It had glass doors, and everything was glass. The girl asked her if she would purchase of her oranges, and the lady said she would have them all if her mother would let her come and be her little servant. So her mother let her go. One day she was cleaning the glass window, when it broke. Then she broke the floor, and when her mistress went to change her dress the little girl ran outside to the gooseberry tree, and she said:— “Gooseberry tree, gooseberry tree, hide me For fear my mistress should find me, For if she does she’ll break my bones, And bury me under the marble stones.” And the gooseberry tree said, “Go to the butcher’s.” And when she got to the butcher’s, she said:— “Butcher, butcher, hide me,” etc. But the butcher said, “Go to the baker.” And when she got there, she said:— “Baker, baker, hide me,” etc. And the baker said, “Get into this bread box.” And she got in, and he nailed it up. While she was at the baker’s, her mistress had been to the gooseberry tree, and it told her it had sent the little girl to the butcher. When her mistress got to the butcher’s, he said he had sent her to the baker’s. So she went to the baker’s, and he told her to go away; but she said she would let his house be searched, and she commenced. But when she came to the box that was nailed she shivered, and she made him undo the nails, and out came the girl. So her mistress took her with her, and as they were crossing a river the girl’s mistress was leaning over a bridge, when the girl gave her a push, and she fell over and was drowned. And the little girl went singing merrily till she got to the glass house, and kept it as her own. Peggy with the Wooden Leggy[118] [118] Told to me by Florence Cooper, of the Peak Hotel, Castleton, Derbyshire, in 1901. A much inferior version called “The Golden Arm” was collected by the Rev. S. Baring-Gould in Devonshire. It is printed in the first edition of Henderson’s _Folk-lore of the Northern Counties_.