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HERE was once an old woman, who earned a poor living by going errands and such like, for the farmers' wives round about the village where she lived. It wasn't much she earned by it; but with a plate of meat at one house, and a cup of tea at another, she made shift to get on somehow, and always looked as cheerful as if she hadn't a want in the world.

Well, one summer evening as she was trotting away homewards she came upon a big black pot lying at the side of the road.

"Now that" said she, stopping to look at it, "would be just the very thing for me if I had anything to put into it! But who can have left it here?" and she looked