By this time the little face had grown larger and larger, and presently a whole little girl stood beside her.
“Isn’t it warm?” said Tina.
“Not so very, in here,” said the little girl; “but I will take you to a warm place;” and before Tina could say a word, she was seized by the hand, and found herself running swiftly along. She looked up at the little girl, who grew taller and taller, and by the time they had stopped running, she was a tall young maiden.
“Come,” said she, as she opened a door.
Tina went in. There was a smell of bread-baking, and just as they entered Tina saw a baker taking loaves of bread out of an oven.
“I never was in a bake-shop before like this,” thought Tina. “I am glad I can see how they make bread, and bake it;” and she stood still to watch the baker.
He had a long shovel with which he was drawing the bread out of the oven; and just at that moment Tina saw him start back, and there, stepping on the shovel, was a little black imp. It grinned at the baker, and the baker stood still and stared back at it.
“Who are you?” said he. “Where did you come from?”
“I came from the oven,” said the imp. “I’ve been in there for a week.”
“No wonder he is so black,” thought Tina.