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tand round him。 One could look at them so long； that it had an effectupon the thoughts； and these reacted upon the stones； as if theywere telling of old times； at least it had been so with the man whowas in search of the Story。
As he came nearer； he noticed a living butterfly sitting on theforehead of the sculptured councillor。 The butterfly flapped itswings； and flew a little bit farther； and then returned fatigued tosit upon the grave…stone； as if to point out what grew there。Four…leaved shamrocks grew there； there were seven specimens closeto each other。 When fortune es； it es in a heap。 He pluckedthe shamrocks and put them in his pocket。
〃Fortune is as good as red gold； but a new charming story would bebetter still；〃 thought the man； but he could not find it here。
And the sun went down； round and large； the meadow was coveredwith vapor。 The moor…woman was at her brewing。
It was evening。 He stood alone in his room； and looked out uponthe sea； over the meadow； over moor and coast。 The moon shonebright； a mist was over the meadow； making it look like a greatlake； and； indeed； it was once so； as the legend tells… and in themoonlight the eye realizes these myths。
Then the man thought of what he had been reading in the town； thatWilliam Tell and Holger Danske never really lived； but yet live inpopular story； like the lake yonder； a living evidence for such myths。Yes； Holger Danske will return again！
As he stood thus and thought； something beat quite stronglyagainst the window。 Was it a bird； a bat or an owl？ Those are notlet in； even when they knock。 The window flew open of itself； and anold woman looked in at the man。
〃What's your pleasure？〃 said he。 〃Who are you？ You're looking inat the first floor window。 Are you standing on a ladder？〃
〃You have a four…leaved shamrock in your pocket；〃 she replied。〃Indeed； you have seven； and one of them is a six…leaved one。〃
〃Who are you？〃 asked the man again。
〃The Moor…woman；〃 she replied。 〃The Moor…woman who brews。 I was atit。 The bung was in the cask； but one of the little moor…imps pulledit out in his mischief； and flung it up into the yard； where it beatagainst the window； and now the beer's running out of the cask； andthat won't do good to anybody。〃
〃Pray tell me some more！〃 said the man。
〃Yes； wait a little；〃 answered the Moor…woman。 〃I've somethingelse to do just now。〃 And she was gone。
The man was going to shut the window； when the woman already stoodbefore him again。
〃Now it's done；〃 she said； 〃but I shall have half the beer to brewover again to…morrow； if the weather is suitable。 Well； what haveyou to ask me？ I've e back； for I always keep my word； and you haveseven four…leaved shamrocks in your pocket； and one of them is asix…leaved one。 That inspires respect； for that's an order thatgrows beside the sandy way； but that every one does not find。 Whathave you to ask me？ Don't stand there like a ridiculous oaf； for Imust go back again directly to my bung and my cask。〃
And the man asked about the Story； and inquired if theMoor…woman had met it in her journeyings。
〃By the big brewing…vat！〃 exclaimed the woman； 〃haven't you gotstories enough？ I really believe that most people have enough of them。Here are other things to take notice of； other things to examine。 Eventhe children have gone beyond that。 Give the little boy a cigar； andthe little girl a new crinoline； they like that much better。 To listento stories！ No； indeed； there are more important things to be donehere； and other things to notice！〃
〃What do you mean by that？〃 asked the man； 〃and what do you knowof the world？ You don't see anything but frogs and Will…o'…the…Wisps！〃
〃Yes； beware of the Will…o'…the…Wisps；〃 said the Moor…woman；〃for they're out… they're let loose… that's what we must talk about！e to me in the moor； where my presence is necessary； and I willtell you all about it； but you must make haste； and e while yourseven four…leaved shamrocks； for which one has six leaves； are stillfresh； and the moon stands high！〃
And the Moor…woman was gone。
It struck twelve in the town； and before the last stroke haddied away； the man was out in the yard； out in the garden； and stoodin the meadow。 The mist had vanished； and the Moor…woman stopped herbrewing。
〃You've been a long time ing！〃 said the Moor…woman。 〃Witchesget forward faster than men； and I'm glad that I belong to the witchfolk！〃
〃What have you to say to me now？〃 asked the man。 〃Is it anythingabout the Story？〃
〃Can you never get beyond asking about that？〃 retorted the woman。
〃Can you tell me anything about the poetry of the future？〃 resumedthe man。
〃Don't get on your stilts；〃 said the crone； 〃and I'll answeryou。 You think of nothing but poetry； and only ask about that Story；as if she were the lady of the whole troop。 She's the oldest of usall； but she takes precedence of the youngest。 I know her well。 I'vebeen young； too； and she's no chicken now。 I was once quite a prettyelf…maiden； and have danced in my time with the others in themoonlight； and have heard the nightingale； and have gone into theforest and met the Story…maiden； who was always to be found out there；running about。 Sometimes she took up her night's lodging in ahalf…blown tulip； or in a field flower； sometimes she would slipinto the church； and wrap herself in the mourning crape that hung downfrom the candles on the altar。〃
〃You are capitally well…informed；〃 said the man。
〃I ought at least to know as much as you；〃 answered theMoor…woman。 〃Stories and poetry… yes； they're like two yards of thesame piece of stuff； they can go and lie down where they like； and onecan brew all their prattle； and have it all the better and cheaper。You shall have it from me for nothing。 I have a whole cupboard…full ofpoetry in bottles。 It makes essences； and that's the best of it…bitter and sweet herbs。 I have everything that people want ofpoetry； in bottles； so that I can put a little on my handkerchief；on holidays； to smell。〃
〃Why； these are wonderful things that you're telling！〃 said theman。 〃You have poetry in bottles？〃
〃More than you can require；〃 said the woman。 〃I suppose you knowthe history of 'the Girl who Trod on the Loaf； so that she might notsoil her shoes'？ That has been written； and printed too。〃
〃I told that story myself；〃 said the man。
〃Yes； then you must know it； and you must know also that thegirl sank into the earth directly； to the Moor…woman； just as OldBogey's grandmother was paying her morning visit to inspect thebrewery。 She saw the girl gliding down； and asked to have her as aremembrance of her visit； and got her too； while I received apresent that's of no use to me… a travelling druggist's shop… awhole cupboard…full of poetry in bottles。 Grandmother told me wherethe cupboard was to be placed； and there it's standing still。 Justlook！ You've your seven four…leaved shamrocks in your pocket； one ofwhich is a six…leaved one； and so you will be able to see it。〃
And really in the midst of the moor lay something like a greatknotted block of alder； and that was the old grandmother's cupboard。The Moor…woman said that this was always open to her and to everyone in the land； if they only knew where the cupboard stood。 Itcould be opened either at the front or at the back； and at everyside and corner… a perfect work of art； and yet only an old alderstump in appearance。 The poets of all lands； and especially those ofour own country； had been arranged here； the spirit of them had beenextracted； refined； criticised and renovated； and then stored up inbottles。 With what may be called great aptitude； if it was notgenius the grandmother had taken as it were the flavor of this andof that poet； and had added a little devilry； and then corked up thebottles for use during all future times。
〃Pray let me see；〃 said the man。
〃Yes； but there are more important things to hear；〃 replied theMoor…woman。
〃But now we are at the cupboard！〃 said the man。 And he lookedin。 〃Here are bottles of all sizes。 What is in this one？ and what inthat one yonder？〃
〃Here is what they call may…balm；〃 replied the woman。 〃I havenot tried it myself。 But I have not yet told you the 'moreimportant' thing you were to hear。 THE WILL…O'…THE…WISP'S IN THE TOWN！That's o