"What is it?" said Davy, cautiously edging away.
"It's a Cricket-Bat," said the Goblin, rapping familiarly with his knuckles on its hard shell. "His body is like a boot-jack, and his wings are like a pair of umbrellas."
"But, you know, a Cricket-Bat is something to play with!" said Davy, surprised at the Goblin's ignorance.
"Well, you may play with it if you like. I don't want to," said the Goblin, carelessly tossing the great creature over to Davy, and walking away.
The Cricket-Bat made a swoop at Davy, knocking him over like a feather, and then, with a loud snort, flew away across the meadow. It dashed here and there at flying things of every kind, and, turning on its side, knocked them, one after another, quite out of sight, until, to Davy's delight, the Cockalorum came into view, flying across the meadow in his usual blundering fashion. At sight of him the Cricket-Bat gave another triumphant snort, and with a wild plunge at the great creature knocked him floundering into the tall grass, and with a loud, whirring sound disappeared in a distant wood.
Davy ran to the spot where the Cockalorum had fallen, and found him sitting helplessly in the grass, looking dreadfully rumpled, and staring about confusedly, as if wondering what had happened to him. As Davy came running up he murmured, in a reproachful way, "Oh! it's you, is it? Well, then, I don't want any more of it."
"Upon my word I didn't do it," cried Davy, trying to keep from laughing. "It was the Cricket-Bat."
"And what did he want?" murmured the Cockalorum, very sadly.
"Oh! he was only having a game of cricket with you," said Davy, soothingly. "You were the ball, you know."
The Cockalorum pondered over this for a moment, and then murmuring, "I prefer croquet," floundered away through the waving grass. Davy, who for once felt sorry for the ridiculous old creature, was just setting off after him, when a voice cried, "Come on! Come on!" and Davy, looking across the meadow, saw the Goblin beckoning vigorously to him, apparently in great excitement.