the way back. At the same instant he saw the hut right before him. And then he remembered it was when he had lost himself that he saw it the former time.
“It seems the way to find some things is to lose yourself,” said he to himself.
He went up to the cottage, which was like a large beehive built of turf, and knocked at the door.
“Come in, Colin,” said a voice; and he entered, stooping low.
The old woman sat by a little fire, spinning, after the old fashion, with a distaff and spindle. She stopped the moment he went in.
“Come and sit down by the fire,” she said, “and tell me what you want.”
Then Colin saw that she had no eyes.
“I am very sorry you are blind,” he said.
“Never you mind that, my dear. I see more than you do for all my blindness. Tell me what you want, and I shall see at least what I can do for you.”
“How do you know I want anything,” asked Colin.
“Now that’s what I don’t like,” said the old woman “Why do you waste words? Words should not be wasted any more than crumbs.”
“I beg your pardon,” returned Colin. “I will tell you all about it.”
And so he told her the whole story.
“Oh those children! those children!” said the old woman. “They are always doing some mischief. They never know how to enjoy themselves