So the old hag said to her daughter,—
"Now you must take Buttercup and kill him, and boil him nicely till I come back, for I'm off to church to bid my guests to dinner."
So, when all in the house were gone to church, the daughter was to take Buttercup and kill him, but then she didn't know how to set about it at all.
"Stop a bit," said Buttercup; "I'll soon show you how to do it; just lay your head on the chopping-block, and you'll soon see."
So the poor silly thing laid her head down, and Buttercup took an axe and chopped her head off, just as if she had been a chicken. Then he laid her head in the bed, and popped her body into the pot, and boiled it so nicely; and when he had done that, he climbed up on the roof, and dragged up with him the fir-tree root and the stone, and put the one over the door, and the other at the top of the chimney
So when the household came back from church, and saw the head on the bed, they thought it was the daughter who lay there asleep; and then they thought they would just taste the broth.
"Good, by my troth!
Buttercup broth,"
said the old hag.
"Good, by my troth!
Daughter broth,"
said Buttercup down the chimney, but no one heeded him.
So the old hag's husband, who was every bit as bad as she, took the spoon to have a taste.
"Good, by my troth!
Buttercup broth."
said he.
