"Then you must borrow one that does," ses Mrs. Prince, "and when it
strikes twelve you must go round to each o' them six men and sell them a
ha'penny for a shilling."

Joe Barlcomb looked at 'er. "'Ow?" he ses, short-like.

"Same way as you sold 'em a shilling for a ha'-penny," ses Mrs. Prince;
"it don't matter whether they buy the ha'pennies or not. All you've got
to do is to go and ask 'em, and the man as makes the most fuss is the man
that 'as put the trouble on you."

"It seems a roundabout way o' going to work," ses Joe.

"_Wot!_" screams Mrs. Prince, jumping up and waving her arms about.
"_Wot!_ Go your own way; I'll have nothing more to do with you. And
don't blame me for anything that happens. It's a very bad thing to come
to a witch for advice and then not to do as she tells you. You ought to
know that."

"I'll do it, ma'am," ses Joe Barlcomb, trembling.

"You'd better," ses Mrs. Prince; "and mind--not a word to anybody."

Joe promised her agin, and 'e went off and borrered a clock from Albert
Price, and at twelve o'clock that night he jumped up out of bed and began
to dress 'imself and pretend not to 'ear his wife when she asked 'im
where he was going.

It was a dark, nasty sort o' night, blowing and raining, and, o' course,
everybody 'ad gone to bed long since. The fust cottage Joe came to was