Thinks I to myself: “If she’s a Witch, she’ll not hurt me, as I never crossed her in my life. Witch or no Witch, I’ll stop and have a bite of something hot at her little house,” thought I.
When I came to the house, the door was tight shut, and I heard a strange mumbling inside, but I could not make out what it was. So I took a peep through the latch-hole. And what did I see but old Betty standing by the chimney-piece with a little box in her hand, and she was muttering something that sounded like a charm. She put her finger into the box and pulled it out again, and smeared some ointment over her eyes. Then she put the box into a hole near the chimney.
I lifted the latch and walked in. “How-de-do, Betty,” said I.
“Welcome,” said she, grinning and pleased. “Sit down by the fire. Now we’ll have a good drop of something hot to ourselves, seeing that it’s Christmas Eve,” said she.
“I’ll take a thimbleful, just to drink your health and a Merry Christmas to you, with all my heart,” said I; for I well knew that Betty made the best sweet drink, with sugar and spice and a roasted apple bobbing around in it.
I put down my basket, and took off my coat, and sat by the fire; while Betty stepped into a closet to fetch the cups.
Now, I had often wondered what made her eyes so clear and piercing. “’Tis the Fairy ointment, or Witch salve in the box,” thought I. “If it will do that to her eyes, it won’t hurt me.” So while she was gone, I took the box from the hole, where she had covered it with ferns, and put a bit of the ointment on my right eye. The stuff had no sooner touched me than it burned like fire, or as if needles and pins were being thrust into my eyeball. Just then Betty came from the closet, and I dragged the brim of my hat down over my right eye, so she should not see what had happened.
After we had drunk each other’s health three or four times, the pain went off, and I ventured to open my anointed eye. And oh! what did I see! The place was full of Spriggans! Troops of the Little People were cutting all sorts of capers in the folds of the nets and sails hung on the walls, in the bunches of herbs that swung from the rafters, and in the pots and pans on the dresser. Some of them were playing seesaw on the beams of the ceiling, tossing their heels and waving their feathered caps, as they teetered up and down on bits of straw or green twigs. Numbers of them were swinging in the cobwebs that festooned the rafters or riding mice in and out through holes in the thatch.
I noted that all the little men were dressed in green tricked out with red, and had feathered caps and high riding-boots with silver spurs. Their ladies, if you please, were all decked in grand fashion—their gowns were of green velvet with long trains and looped up with silver chains and bells. They wore high-crowned steeple-hats, with wreaths of the most beautiful flowers around them; while sprigs of blossoms and garlands decorated all parts of their dress, and were in their hands as well. They were the sauciest Little People I ever did see. They pranced around on their high-heeled boots sparkling with diamond buckles.
When I peeped into the wood-corner under Betty’s bunk, I spied some of the ugly Spriggans sitting there looking very gloomy because they have to watch the treasures that are hidden in the ground, and do other disagreeable things that the merry Spriggans never have to do.