“I certainly will not go inside until I know who has gone in there.” So he called out, “Little house, why do you not give me an answer when I call? You always call out to me if all is safe and right. Is anything wrong that you do not speak?”
Then the alligator who was inside thought, “I must pretend to be the little house and call out. He will not come in unless he thinks all is right in here.” So he called out in as pleasant a voice as he could, “Sweet little Jackal.” When the little jackal heard that he was frightened indeed.
“So that dreadful old alligator is in my house. I must try to kill him if I can, or he will certainly make an end of me some day.”
Then he answered, “Thank you, my dear little house. I like to hear your pretty voice. I am coming in a minute, but first I must collect some firewood to cook my dinner.” As fast as he could, he gathered all the dry branches and bits of sticks and piled them up close to the mouth of the den. The old alligator inside kept as quiet as a mouse, but he could not help laughing a little to himself, “So I have deceived that little jackal at last. In a few minutes he will run in here, and then, won’t I snap him up!”
When the jackal had gathered as many sticks as he could find, he ran back and placed the sticks all round the outside of his den. Then he set fire to them. The great fire blazed up, and the smoke filled the den and smothered that wicked old alligator.
FINN AND THE FAIRY SHOEMAKER
Finn O’Shea’s grandmother knew more about fairies than anyone else in the village. One afternoon when the sun was shining on the tops of the Nine Hills, which rose up a few fields beyond the edge of the village, Finn and his grandmother were coming home from a walk. Suddenly the old woman darted forward and picked up the tiniest bit of a gray feather. Her sharp eyes had spied it under the shadow of a foxglove.
“What is it, Granny?” asked Finn.
“An owl’s feather, lad. It fell out of one of their wee red caps,” said she, laughing quietly. “They had a fine revel in the fields last night, my boy, for it was Midsummer Eve. That is the time when the wee folks are gayest, you know.”