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Updated: May 16, 2025
Rhoda loved her flowers and tended them faithfully. Chrif did not care much for flowers. He preferred to sail boats. He would cut them out of wood with his jack-knife, and load them with stones and grass. Then he would send the boats down the little stream that flowed past the old red house. "This ship is going to India," he would say to Rhoda.
One day the children were sailing boats when a thunder-storm arose. How fast the rain fell! And how fast they ran to the house! "Poor grandmother will be all wet!" said Rhoda. She and Chrif were watching the falling rain from the window. Suddenly the sun came out. A little rain was still falling, but the children ran into the yard. "Look, there's a rainbow!" cried Chrif.
"Those two are the handsomest of all," she thought, "and one of them is handsomer than the other." She looked at Chrif again. Then she stepped down from the throne. "Dance with me," she said, "and you shall have the pot of gold," and she held out her hand to Chrif. "What was I to do with it?" asked Chrif. "Oh, I know. I was to take it home to Rhoda."
"Are ye looking for a pot of gold, children?" said a voice behind them. It was the old broom-woman. She had a little house in the woods and sold brooms for a living. "A pot of gold!" cried Chrif. "Where is it?" "It's at the foot of the rainbow," said the broom-woman. "If ye get to the foot of the rainbow and then dig and dig, ye'll come to a pot of gold." "Rhoda! let's go quick!" said Chrif.
It rested on the far side of a valley. He hurried down the hill and into the valley. When he reached the spot where the end of the rainbow had rested, the rainbow was gone. Chrif could see it nowhere. The lad stopped and looked around him. Not far away a flock of sheep were feeding. A shepherd-boy lay on the ground near them. He was reading a book.
And Chrif read: "I am the Pot of Gold; I can give thee all things save one. If thou hast me, thou canst not have that. Close thine eyes. Then, if thou choosest me, open them again." Chrif closed his eyes. He saw the old red house dark and cold. No one lived there now. The boat-garden was hidden under the snow. Someone in white passed him by. She was weeping bitterly.
"Rhoda!" he cried and followed in her steps. Suddenly a warm hand fell upon his shoulder. "Chrif, dear Chrif!" He opened his eyes, and O joy! Rhoda stood beside him. Chrif's Return "I have come to look for you," said Rhoda. "Why, Chrif, you have been gone three years!" "Three years!" gasped Chrif.
It was very pleasant. As they stood by the boat-garden, a voice called to them. The old broom-woman stood in the road. "Have ye found the pot of gold?" she asked. "No; but I have found something else far better!" said Chrif, "I have found home." The Frog-Tsarevna
Then, suddenly, the music grew harsh; the palace walls fell; the dancers were gone. Chrif was all alone. When day dawned, Chrif was walking over a wide plain. On the far side of the plain stood a ruined house. Between a row of poplar-trees a path led to the door. Chrif knocked, but no one came. Then he pushed open the door and entered. An old man sat at a table.
"Only don't let it drop on my head," said Andy, with a laugh. They walked along the shore in silence. After a time Chrif cried out with joy, "Here is a path leading into the woods. And I do believe I see the pillar!" "Hurrah!" cried Andy, "let's push on!" And now the three stood at the foot of the pillar and looked up to the top. By the faint light of the moon they saw the pot of gold.
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