So the little old woman, taking a small basket off a nail, and a sharp knife in her hand, went into the garden to gather the vegetables. Down she plumped beside the bed, and began to dig and cut at the potatuses to get them up. Her back was turned to the house, and the tall stalks and thick leaves of the tomato bushes quite hid it from her view when she sat on the ground, for she was a teeny-tawny little old woman. While she was thus engaged, the little old man was sitting inside with the book open in one hand, for fear he should forget the charm, and the fairy foxglove tight in the other, waiting impatiently for her return. The hands of the clock kept getting nearer and nearer to twelve, and at last there was only one moment wanting to the time.
"Why, goodness gracious me!" cried Mr. Timmy Timmens; "has Polly forgot all about the fairy wish? I declare, I have a great mind to begin alone." Just as he said these words, the clock began to strike! and at the same moment a tremendous hullabaloo arose on the road. "There come the fairies!" squeaked the little old man; and without waiting another second, he stood straight up in the middle of the floor, and said, in a trembling voice:
"Rorum corum torum snorum,
Highcum tickleme cockolorum!"
seven times over; then, shutting up his eyes as tight as possible, stood on one leg, and cried, "Please, good fairy, Polly and I wish our house was in the middle of the village!"
Hardly had he said these words, than a long red object, that looked wonderfully like a cow's tail, suddenly whisked in at the half open door; the wind caught the door, and shut it to, slam! bang! and with a jerk that made the bright brass knocker give a tremendous double knock on the bright blue door, and sent the bright tin saucepans scattering in every direction, the house started suddenly down on the road on a double-quick trot! Did you ever?! Well, I never did!!
It happened that a large drove of cows and oxen were going down to market that day, and being very hot, and tired, and thirsty, they naturally objected to being driven in that way any longer, and commenced cutting a variety of capers that were enough to frighten you out of your wits. At last one irascible little bull, who had been riding on the other ones' backs, charging at all the innocent ducks, geese, and pigs he could find on the road, and finally had tossed one of the men who were driving him right up in the air, dashed on ahead, and, seeing the little house with the bright red sides, took the color as a personal insult to himself. Down went his head and up went his heels, and in another minute he would have bounced right into poor Mr. Timmy Timmens' dwelling, when one of the drivers saw him, and rushing up, gave him a good whack with his whip. Master Bull turned round to see what was to pay; in an instant his tail was caught in the door as I told you, and, frightened half out of his wits, he galloped off, dragging the little house on wheels after him, and roaring with pain, while the drivers looked on, roaring with laughter.
THE MAD BULL.
Meanwhile, the little old man remained standing on one leg, not daring to open his eyes, for fear the charm would be broken, and only wishing that the little old woman were with him. At last the house stopped, moving with another jerk, that sent the little old man toppling back in his rocking chair, and a moment afterward the door was opened a little bit, and a strange voice said, "Well, here we are at the village, old gentleman, begging your pardon," and then all was silent.
Up jumped the little old man, opening his eyes very wide this time, hobbled to the door, and looked out. There, sure enough, he was, in the pleasant, shady village street, with the church directly opposite, so nice for Sundays, and nothing to be seen but a drove of cows and oxen going down the road at some distance!