falling thick around her, and at the foot of the pine-tree something
was shining wonderfully clear and bright.

At last she reached it, and just at that instant the rainbow became a
perfect one, and there at the foot of the wonderful arch of glory was
the Pot of Gold. Flax could see it brighter than all the brightness of
the rainbow. She sank down beside it and put her hand on it, then she
closed her eyes and sat still, bathed in red and green and violet
light--that, and the golden light from the Pot, made her blind and
dizzy. As she sat there with her hand on the Pot of Gold at the foot
of the rainbow, she could hear the leaves over her singing louder and
louder, till the tones fairly rushed like a wind through her ears. But
this time they only sang the last words of the song:

"And whom is it for, O Pilgrim, pray?
For thee, Sweetheart, should'st thou go that way."

At last she ventured to open her eyes. The rainbow had faded almost
entirely away, only a few tender rose and green shades were arching
over her; but the Pot of Gold under her hand was still there, and
shining brighter than ever. All the pine needles with which the ground
around it was thickly spread, were turned to needles of gold, and some
stray couplets of leaves which were springing up through them were all
gilded.

Flax bent over it trembling and lifted the lid off the pot. She
expected, of course, to find it full of gold pieces that would buy the
grand house and the gardener and the maid that her father had spoken
about. But to her astonishment, when she had lifted the lid off and
bent over the Pot to look into it, the first thing she saw was the