"Where did you get it from?" ventured Jill.
"Aha, I stole it!" said the old Witch, with a wicked grin. "When the people weren't looking, I stole it! A bag here, and a bag there. Some nice little thunderstorms I got too. They won't like it when they wake up to-morrow and find their wells dried up, and their grass withering. Ha! ha! ha!" and the old Witch ground her teeth together more maliciously than ever.
"Now, come along, pick up those bags and follow me," she cried, when she had finished eating her supper. So Jill picked up the bags.
"Lift up the floor
And open door,"
shouted the old Witch, tapping the floor with her broomstick. Once more they went down the dark steps into the vault. Jill untied the sacks and emptied them into the different casks according to the Witch's directions, and as each cask was filled a lid slid on of itself. There was a terrible noise while the thunder-storm cask was being filled, and the old Witch had to mutter spells all the time to prevent it from running over.
When the bags were empty and the casks full, the old Witch went into the next vault and made Jill pick up and add some more bags to the number that she already had.
Then they went back to the kitchen again. At the top of the steps the Witch called out:
"Shut down the floor
And close the door,"
and the floor closed up again.
"I am going out now," said the old Witch as before. "I shall not be back till to-morrow at dusk. I shall lock the door so you cannot get out. Clean the place and have supper ready for me when I come back." She took her broomstick and bound on it the double number of elastic bags, perched her cat at the other end, mounted it astride, and with an "Abracadabra," she was gone.