All at once as she sat there a little old woman appeared before her.
She wore a pointed hat and carried a crooked staff, and said in a squeaky voice:
“Well, my dear, you tapped for me; what would you like? Think a long time before you speak, because I cannot come again for seven years.”
But little Isabelle did not wait a moment. She said eagerly, “Give me a playmate.”
“You shall have one,” said the old woman, and she struck the floor three times with her crooked stick, saying:
“A nick, a knock, a knack.
A beak, a beck, a back.
O blow a crow to Isabelle!
And here it comes, so now farewell.”
The old woman disappeared with a loud laugh and immediately a great black crow flew into the summer-house. Poor little Isabelle, she felt so disappointed that she could have cried. She had asked for a playmate, and the wicked old woman had given her a crow. But she was a kind good little girl as well as a beautiful princess, and she felt sorry for the poor black crow. It looked so lonesome as it perched on the back of a chair that Isabelle said sweetly: