“Oh, yes, there is an old well,” said his papa. “It has been down there longer than I can remember, for it is even older than the house,--older than the city, too, I daresay. It was an Indian spring, and my great-grandfather built the house over it, so as to have fresh water always conveniently at hand. It is covered now with a trapdoor, so that no one can fall in by mistake. That is why you never saw it, Rob.” “An old Indian spring!” cried Rob excitedly, “and we drink that very same water every day! How splendid!” He sipped some water from his glass and smacked his lips. “Oh, no,” said his papa laughing. “This is ordinary spring water bought at the store. Our old well has not been used for years and years. Since the city has been built up so closely around our house, which was one of the first ones here on the Hill, we have not dared to use the well water, because it might not be clean. I daresay the well is quite dry by this time. I have not looked into it for years.” “O Papa! I want to look down into the well!” cried Rob. “Well, you shall do so some time,” said his papa as they rose from the table. “But I am in a hurry now. Good-by, Mamma. Good-by, Rob. I will buy a trap on my way down town to-day, and we will put an end to the noises in the cellar which trouble Katie.” Now of course Rob was very anxious to see that well, for he loved everything that had to do with Indians. He thought that he could not wait for his father to show it to him. He ran into the kitchen and began to bother Katie. “Katie, Katie,” he begged. “Please come into the cellar and show me the old well. I want to look down into it.” “The Saints preserve us!” cried Katie, lifting up her hands in horror. “What for do ye want to be lookin’ into the well? No, me b’y! It’s I that will be kapin’ away from that same, and thank ye kindly. ’Tis bewitched it is, what with the funny little noises a-comin’ out of it day and night.” “What funny little noises, Katie?” asked Rob. “Papa says it is rats. He is going to buy a trap to catch them.” “Rats! A trap!” sniffed Katie scornfully. “’Tis no rats at all do be makin’ them quare little noises. ’Tis bewitched, I tell ye. ’Tis stark bewitched, that well. And I wouldn’t go near it at all for the promise of a new bonnet.” “What does ‘bewitched’ mean, Katie?” asked Rob again. Katie wagged her head and mysteriously made the sign of the cross. “Oh, who will be tellin’ ye that? If it was in the owld country I’d say it was Fairies or maybe the Leprechaun himself. But I never heard tell o’ Fairies in this land, at all. Maybe ’tis something worse. But oh! The funny little noises!” “_What_ noises, Katie?” begged Rob. “Oh, the little whinin’ and sobbin’, like one wantin’ to get out. ’Tis no rats live in the owld well. Would _rats_ be whimperin’ and beggin’ like?” “Begging, Katie!” cried Rob. “Oh, what do they say? Please, please tell me quickly.”