"Climb on Andy's shoulders, Gavin, and then I will stand on yours," said Chrif.
"I don't want the pot of gold," said Gavin. "I have seen it; that is enough. I will go to see the Magic Fountain," and Gavin turned into the forest.
The other two friends stood by the pillar. "I must have that pot of gold. I want it for Rhoda and the old grandmother."
As Chrif spoke, he looked at the pillar. Lo! a picture was on its side. He saw the old red house, the grandmother at the window, and Rhoda in the garden. Rhoda was watering the flowers in the dear old boat. Now and then she would turn her head and look up the road. She seemed hoping that Chrif would come.
The pillar and the pot of gold faded away; then the picture of home went too. Chrif was left in darkness.
Then Andy spoke. "Hark!" he whispered, "I hear something."
Chrif at the Palace
Chrif listened and he too heard distant music. Its notes were very sweet.
"Come, let us go where the music is!" said Andy.
Chrif and Andy made their way through the woods and entered a shining city. Every street was blazing with lights; the fronts of the houses were hung with lanterns; fireworks were being set off in the public squares. All the people wore their finest clothes.