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Updated: May 16, 2025
But Chrif would not turn back. "I must find the pot of gold," he said, "it cannot now be far away." And Gavin and Andy went with him. "I should like to dip my fingers into your pot of gold," said Andy. "You shall have your share," said Chrif. "It is on the top of a pillar not far from the coast. If you'll stand below, I'll get on your shoulders, and then perhaps I can reach it."
All the people wore their finest clothes. "How gay they all are! I wonder why?" said Andy. "Hush!" cried Chrif. A man on a prancing horse had just come in sight. He reined in his horse and blew a horn. Then he cried with a loud voice these words: "This night there is a ball in the palace. All are welcome. The Pot of Gold will be given to the one with whom the Princess shall dance."
"Climb on Andy's shoulders, Gavin, and then I will stand on yours," said Chrif. "I don't want the pot of gold," said Gavin. "I have seen it; that is enough. I will go to see the Magic Fountain," and Gavin turned into the forest. The other two friends stood by the pillar. "I must have that pot of gold. I want it for Rhoda and the old grandmother." As Chrif spoke, he looked at the pillar.
To open you must first read the words written below." The words written below were strange; the letters too were strange. "These books may help me read the writing," thought Chrif. "This old man has spent his life in the search. Shall I be more successful I wonder?" Then he buried the old man, lighted the lamp, and read the books. Weeks passed and even months. Chrif ate little and slept less.
Christopher was no relation to Rhoda and her grandmother. He was called Chrif for short. The grandmother earned her living by picking berries. Every day in fair weather she went to the pastures. But she did not take the children with her. They played at home. Rhoda had a flower garden in an old boat. The boat was filled with earth. There grew larkspur and sweet-william.
The table was covered with great books and many papers. Overhead a lamp burned dimly. The old man was bent over the books. He seemed to study busily, but when Chrif went near, he saw that the old man was dead. There were two doors to this room. One was the door by which Chrif had entered. The other was opposite. This door was of stone. On it was written: "Behind this door is the Pot of Gold.
"When grandmother died, last winter, I was so lonely, I said, 'When spring comes I will find Chrif." "Grandmother dead! Why, it was but yesterday that I left home!" "Ah, no," answered Rhoda. And she looked at Chrif and smiled. And so they came again to the old red house. There was the dear old boat-garden. Sweet-peas were in bloom and morning-glories climbed up the side of the house.
"We shall all be rich when he comes back with his pot of gold," said the little girl. "He will not find it," said the grandmother. Rhoda, however, was not so sure. Chrif in the New Land Chrif ran straight across the fields toward the glowing rainbow. One end of the lovely arch seemed to touch the top of a distant hill. Chrif climbed the hill, but the rainbow was no longer there.
That moment the little bird burst open the pearl door. "Cuckoo! cuckoo! cuckoo!" he cried. But to Chrif he seemed to say: "Rhoda sits by the window watching for Chrif. The flowers are dead in the boat-garden. 'Chrif will never come back, says grandmother, 'he cares nothing for us." Again Chrif saw the beautiful hall and the Princess standing before him.
A path of gold lay across the water. A gay ship was about to set sail. Her white canvas was spread; her oars were in place. Her deck was crowded with lads. They were all starting for the wonderful New Land across the sea. Chrif and Gavin climbed on board and the ship bounded from the land. On and on they went, straight into the sunset. The rowers sang as they worked.
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