The three Hags sat round the fire with their heads together. Baun and Deelish were in a corner plaiting their hair, but the Little Red Hen murmured that I was to listen to what the Hags said.
“We will give them to Crom Duv in the morning” one said. And another said, “I have put a sleeping-pin in the pillow that will be under each, and they will not waken.”
When I heard what they said I wanted to think of what we could do to make our escape. I asked Baun to sing to me. She said she would if I washed her feet. I got a basin of water and washed Baun’s feet, and while she sang, and while the Hags thought we were not minding them, I considered what we might do to escape. The Hags hung a pot over the fire and the three of them sat around it once more.
When I had washed my foster-sister’s feet I took a besom and began to sweep the floor of the house. One of the Hags was very pleased to see me doing that. She said I would make a good servant, and after a while she asked me to sit at the fire. I sat in the corner of the chimney. They had put meal in the water, and I began to stir it with a pot-stick. Then the Hag that had asked me to the fire said, “I will give you a good share of milk with your porridge if you keep stirring the pot for us.” This was just what I wanted to be let do. I sat in the chimney-corner and kept stirring the porridge while the Hags dozed before the fire.
First, I got a dish and ladle and took out of the pot some half-cooked porridge. This I left one side. Then I took down the salt-box that was on the chimney-shelf and mixed handfuls of salt in the porridge left in the pot.
When it was all cooked I emptied it into another dish and brought the two dishes to the table. Then I told the Hags that all was ready. They came over to the table and they gave my foster-sisters and myself three porringers of goat’s milk. We ate out of the first dish and they ate out of the second. “By my sleep to-night,” said one Hag, “this porridge is salty.” “Too little salt is in it for my taste,” said my foster-sister Deelish. “It is as salt as the depths of the sea,” said another of the Hags. “My respects to you, ma’am,” said Baun, “but I do not taste any salt on it at all.” My foster-sisters were so earnest that the Hags thought themselves mistaken, and they ate the whole dishful of porridge.