"Well, they had their days off. One time one brother'd have the core; another time the other brother'd have it. They took turns," said the dwarf.
"It was mean, anyhow!" cried Jimmieboy, who was so fond of his own little brother that he would gladly have borne all his pains for him if it could have been arranged.
"Well, meanness is my business," said the dwarf.
"Your business?" echoed Jimmieboy, opening his eyes wide with astonishment, meanness seemed such a strange business.
"Certainly," returned the dwarf. "Don't you know what I am? I am an unfairy."
"What's that?" asked Jimmieboy.
"You know what a fairy is, don't you?" said the dwarf.
"Yes. It's a dear lovely creature with wings, that goes about doing good."
"That's right. An unfairy is just the opposite," explained the dwarf. "I go about doing unfair things. I am the fairy that makes things go wrong. When your hat blows off in the street the chances are that I have paid the bellows man, who works up all these big winds we have, to do it. If I see people having a good time on a picnic, I fly up to the sky and push a rain cloud over where they are and drench them, having first of course either hidden or punched great holes in their umbrellas. Oh, I can tell you, I am the meanest creature that ever was. Why, do you know what I did once in a country school?"
"No, I don't," said Jimmieboy, in tones of disgust. "I don't know anything about mean things."