The good maid, wishing to save her fellow-damsel so long a suffering, tried with might and main to bear in mind the name of the potent herb. At length she dropped asleep, and when she opened her eyes, she knew nothing at all about the matter.
The boy, forgetting himself in a moment of alarm, was heard to exclaim: ‘Run, granny, run; run for your life!’
There lived an old woman who possessed a very pretty garden, wherein she cultivated a most beautiful bed of tulips. The pixies, so delighted in this spot, would carry their elfin babes thither, and sing them to rest.
The old woman had not gone far, when great was her alarm at perceiving, advancing at full pace, a headless horse, bearing a black and grim rider, with horns sprouting from under a little jockey-cap.