BLOOM-OF-YOUTH AND THE WITCH
wood and towards the Big Stones that were at the other side of it. And as she went through the wood she sang.—
Spin, wheel, spin; sing, wheel, sing;
Every branch on the tree, spin, spin, spin;
The wool is hers, the thread is fine;
For loss of my heart's blood I'll never dwine;
Her name is Bolg and Curr and Carr,
Her name is Lurr and Lappie.
She went singing until she was through the wood and near the Big Stones. She went within the circle. There, besides a flat stone that was on the ground, she saw the black and crooked old woman.
"You have come to me, Bloom-of-Youth," said she. "Do you see the hollow that is in this stone? It is into this hollow that the drops of your heart's blood will have to run."
"The drops of my heart's blood may remain my own."
"No, no, they won't remain your own any longer than when it is plain you can't tell my name."
"Is it Bolg?" said Bloom-of-Youth.
"Bolg is one of my names," screamed the
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