CHAPTER II.
QUIZ.
There was nothing extraordinary within the house on the Granite Cliff. If Dame Growl had any suspicions with reference to the visit of our hero, she kept them to herself. Bob was provided with a good supper, and a bed afterwards, where he slept as sound as a cockroach until the morning. The sun had hardly begun to peep [[299]]over the top of the mountain, however, when the old woman shook him roughly by the arm. “Get up, you sluggard!” she cried. “You don’t remain here and eat idle bread; you must work—work!”
“All right, dame,” responded Bob cheerfully. “I’m not afraid of work in any shape.”
The witch laughed grimly, thereby disclosing her black, ugly teeth. “Oh, you are a wonderful fellow, but we can match you here; we’ll make you work—work!”
She hobbled off into an adjoining room, and returned with an old battered thimble, which she held out on her skinny forefinger. “Here, take this,” she cried. “Now go, and empty the water-hole out there.”
“What! with a thimble?” cried Bob.
“Yes; and you must finish your task before evening; also take out all the small fish, and range them according to their species on the bank. Do you hear?”
“Of course, good dame. Anything besides?” asked the hunter with bitter irony.
Mother Growl disclosed her teeth at him in answer, and left him to his toil.