‘Birthday or no birthday, Granfer Nankivell shan’t taste one,’ cried the little Piskeys. ‘No fy, he shan’t! He turned us out of our beds, and we’ll do him out of his biscuits and junket, see if we won’t!’
‘That’s right!’ said the Fairy Moormen, who were hand and glove with the Piskeys, ‘only please save some for us.’
They and the Piskeys hastened away to the turf-cutter’s cottage, and when the turf-cutter and his wife had gone to bed, the Piskeys got into the spence and ate up the big bowl of junket, and passed out the biscuits to the Tiny Moormen.
The Piskeys got in and ate up the bowl of junket, and passed out the biscuits.
When Grannie Nankivell went to her spence the next day she found the junket-bowl empty and every biscuit gone.
She said she could not imagine who had taken the things, but looked suspiciously at her little granddaughter Genefer.
‘The cat must have got into the spence and done me out of my birthday treat,’ said the old turf-cutter. ‘You must shut the spence-window the next time you put a junket in there.’
‘But the biscuits have gone as well as the junket,’ said the old woman, still looking at little Genefer. ‘Cats have no liking for sugar biscuits, that ever I heard tell of.’