But poor Willie’s money, which had been goin’ all this time like corn in a sieve, was now run purty low. For six of the seven years he had as gay a time and as merry as ever afore—but the money run out with the sixth year, and poor Willie had no means of makin’ more—for he’d sooner starve than work. His friends disappeared, too, with the money; and him that thought he could count friends be the thousand couldn’t find as much as one single one, now, on lookin’ round him. The seventh year, then, was a purty hard one with Willie; an’ he was no ways sorry to find the end of it comin’, and with it the Devil—for he had got heart-sick, sore, and tired, of the wurrl’.

And when at the end of the seventh year and a day the Devil come again he found Willie, with the stick in his fist waitin’ him. And Willie started along with him this time with a heart and a half. And on ahead the both of them thrudged and thravelled for many a weary, dhreary mile, for further nor I could tell you, and twicet further nor you could tell me, till at long at last they reached their journey’s end, and the Devil knocked on the gates of Hell, and had both of them admitted in.

But behold you, Willie wasn’t long in here till he tired of it, and wished he was free again. So he set about makin’ himself as bothersome as he could, and yocked a row with everybody in it, till they could stand him no longer, and put in a petition to the Devil to have him put out of here, bekase there’d never be no more comfort whilst he’d be let remain. And the Devil himself, too, found him so throublesome that he was only too glad to give in, and to ax the request of Willie that he’d go quietly, and laive them in paice. But Willie was conthrary, as always he had been, and he now refused to go till they had to join and put him out by main force. And when they got him out, and the gates slammed on him, Willie kicked up a racket outside, and pegged on the gates for all he was worth, and wouldn’t go away till they’d consent to hand him out a torch, that he might see his way by. So the Devil, through the bars of the gate, handed out till him the torch, and told him to begone back to the wurrl’ he come from, and spend his time ever afther in leadin’ good people asthray.

Back Willie come, and from that day to this, he has continued wandherin’ afore him, over hill and dale, himself and his torch; and it’s his great delight to atthract the attention of good people that have lost their way at night, and lead them into marshes, and bogs, and swamps, where they get stuck, and sunk, and lost.

And from that day to this, owin’ to the torch or wisp he carries in his hand, he has been called Willie-the-Wisp. And on our friend Neil here to-night he had evil intentions; but, as Neil remarked, he had some poor body’s prayer on him, and God reached till him a helpin’ hand, and led him out of the bog.

“Thank God!” we all said fervently.

And Neil said: “Thanks be to Him!”

ONCE on a time, long, long ago, when good people were scarcer, and enchantments more plentiful, there was a Queen who had three beautiful daughters who were renowned far and wide for their handsome looks and gentle ways, and were courted by kings and princes, and many others of high degree, but hadn’t yet been won by any. One day a great prince, that no one knew, and who had never been seen in that country before, came, like the others, looking for the hand of one of these beautiful ladies. But the queen approved of him, in case he was able to succeed in winning the willing hand of either of her daughters, and though he tried his very best he couldn’t win either of them; for they hadn’t yet seen enough of him, and didn’t know enough about him to consent, either of them, to be his for life. Then, he was too proud and too haughty to spend time in his courting, like the other great gentlemen who endeavoured to win them, and when he couldn’t have his desire granted at once he would not delay, but went away from the queen’s court in great wrath, saying angrily that the next time he came for them they would come with him without the asking.

It wasn’t long after he went away, when one morning, the queen and her three daughters sitting by a window, chatting, and looking out on the lovely grounds, saw a great black bull tramping among, and rooting up their flower beds. They were greatly annoyed at this, and the eldest daughter jumped up and ran out, seizing a bit of stick by the way to drive the bull from the garden, but when she reached the bull and struck him with the stick, the stick stuck to the bull, and her hand stuck to the stick, so that she couldn’t let it go. Then the bull started away, dragging her after him and over high hills, and low hills, grey mountains, and green plains he ran, with the lady still drawn after him, very soon disappearing from view of the queen’s castle, and for three days and three nights he never stopped running so, till he reached another great castle, painted the colour of blood. Here the bull changed into the shape of a man, and the frightened young princess saw that he was no other than the haughty prince they had a short time before rejected.

“Now lady,” said he, “it was my last warning, when leaving your castle, that the next time I would visit you, you would come with me without being asked. You see, my word was good, whether you will or no. I now make you mistress of my castle. If you obey me you shall want for nothing, and shall be happier than even in your mother’s. But if you ever dare to disobey me, your fate will be that of many unfortunate ones who went before you, and whose blood has painted my castle the colour you see it.”

The princess resigned herself to her fate, making herself as comfortable as she could that night, and in the morning the prince came to her with a great bunch of keys, which he gave into her possession, saying:

“Now, since you are to be mistress of my castle, I give you charge of all the keys of it. I go away to remain away for a day, and you can pass your time pleasantly going through the castle and seeing all the beautiful rooms in it. Only this—there,” said he, pointing out a key, “is one key, and do not use it, nor enter the room it opens. If you dare to do so, you will surely suffer for your idle curiosity.”

Then he went away, and the princess at her leisure went through the rooms of the castle one after another, admiring their beauty and gorgeousness, until she had seen all but the forbidden room. And when she came to it she looked long at the door, and,

“Well now,” she said, “I wonder what can be in that room, or why he has forbidden me to enter it. I would like to see it; and why mightn’t I just turn the key and peep in? Who can know?”

So she put the key in the door and turned it, and seeing the floor covered with some red matter she put her foot in it and found it was blood. Then she was horrified on looking round the walls to see that it was hung all round with the bodies of beautiful ladies, whom she then knew the prince must have murdered. Then she quickly closed the room again, and locked it. She went to wash the blood from her foot, but found that no matter how much she tried, though she rubbed it and scrubbed it in a running stream by the castle, that she could not get even the smallest drop of the blood washed out. But she thought she could easily hide it from her lord, and went about her business unconcerned. In the evening she took bread and a basin of milk into the garden to have supper under the trees. As she drank the milk a cat crept up to lick the drops that fell from the bowl, but the princess struck the cat with her foot.

“Miaow! Miaow!” said the cat. “If you let me drink up only what milk you let drop, I will lick half the blood off your foot.”

“Get out,” said she, kicking the cat again. “How would you lick it off when I wasn’t able to wash it off myself.”