‘Yes, it is; and I am quite done for, so Granfer Piskey told my little brothers, till I find it again.’
‘Why don’t you go and look for your laugh instead of throwing down want-hills?’ said the mole severely. ‘It would be more to your credit if you did.’
‘I suppose it would,’ replied the Piskey; ‘but, unfortunately, I don’t know where to go and look for my laugh. Have you seen it?’
‘No, I haven’t,’ snapped the mole; ‘I can’t see without eyes. I have lost my eyesight through working underground for so many long centuries.’
‘Do you know anybody who has seen my laugh?’ asked the little Piskey, ‘and who would kindly tell me where to go and find it?’
‘I am afraid I don’t,’ answered the mole, ‘except the Little Man in the Lantern. He is the most likely person I know to have seen your laugh. He is always flipping about the country in the night-time in his little Lantern, and sees most things that wander by night. He is a kind-hearted little fellow, and if he has seen your laugh, he’ll be sure to help you to find it. You know, of course, where the little Lantern Man is to be found?’
‘I have seen his Lantern in the marshes sometimes.’ answered the Piskey. ‘I saw it rush by a few weeks ago, when I and my brothers were lying snug and warm in a great Piskey-bed at Rough Tor Marsh. But as I do not happen to know the Lantern Man, will you please come with me to Rough Tor Marsh and ask him if he has seen my laugh?’
‘What next will you ask me to do?’ cried the mole. ‘No, I cannot go with you. I am far too busy to go tramping round the country with a little Brown Piskey like you, in search of a laugh. I have a tunnel to make across Castle Gardens for my dear little baby wants to run about in, and I must do it before the sun shines over the Tors. If you really want to find your laugh, you must go and ask the Lantern Man yourself. The sooner you go the better, or you may lose the chance of asking him if he has seen it.’
‘I dare say you are right,’ said the little Piskey, with a heavy sigh. ‘But I don’t like the idea of travelling all the way from here to Rough Tor Marsh. My feet are heavy like my heart, now I have lost my laugh; yet I suppose I must go, for I am a wisht poor thing without it, and you would say so, too, Mrs. Mole, if your eyesight wasn’t so bad.’
‘Mrs. Mole, indeed!’ snapped the velvet-coated little creature, raising her tiny hands in anger at such an insult. ‘I beg to tell you that I am not Mrs. Mole, but the Lady Want, and that, although I have fallen from my high estate, I am still a lady of high degree, as my tiny hands bear witness;’ and she held them out for him to see.