"No, it ain't," laughs That, smirking out of the corner of That's eye. And the small, little, black Thing came further into the room.
So she tried again—and this time she seemed hardly able to speak for fright.
"Well—is That—Zebedee?" she says.
"No, it ain't," cried the impet, full of glee. And it came quite close and stretched out its little black hands to her, and O-oh, its tail...!!!
"Take time, my beauty," says That, sort of jeering like, and its small, little, black eyes seemed to eat her up. "Take time! Remember! next guess and you're mine!" Well, she backed just a wee bit from it, for it was just horrible to look at; but then she laughed out and pointed her finger at it and said, says she:
"Name me, name me not,
Your name is
Tom
TIT
TOT."
And you never heard such a shriek as that small, little, black Thing gave out. Its tail dropped down straight, its feet all crumpled up, and away That flew into the dark, and she never saw it no more.
And she lived happy ever after with her husband, the King.
