"And wherefore not?"
"First because I like my little cave best, and second because this is too much like a dungeon, and third because I like it not—and hark!" and indeed as we spoke the echoes hissed and whispered all about us.
"Why, 'tis airy and very dry!"
"And very dark by day, Martin."
"True enough! Still 'tis a wondrous place—"
"O very, Martin, only I like it not at all."
"Why then, the bed, the bed should serve you handsomely."
"No!" says she, mighty vehement. "You shall make me a better an you will, or I will do with my bed of fern."
"Well then, this pot—here is noble iron pot for you, at least!"
"Why yes," says she, smiling to see me all chapfallen, "'tis indeed a very good pot, let us bring it away with us, though indeed I could do very well without it."