CHAPTER VI.
THE KING OF THE GNOMES.
Just beside the haystack was a field-mouse's hole, or what looked like one; and something that looked like a little brown mouse, but which might have been something else for all Hilda could tell, was sitting at the entrance of it. But when it saw the cat it rose up on its little hind legs, turned a complete somersault, and then darted away down the hole; and Hilda noticed that it had no tail.
'What a curious mouse!' she said to Tom.
'It was a Gnome,' he replied: 'they are often mistaken for mice when they appear on the surface of the ground.'
'Where has he gone to?' inquired Hilda.
'Down to the centre of the earth, to be sure,' said Tom, 'to tell the others that we are coming.'
'But we can never get into such a little hole as that,' Hilda said.
'Get on my back, and hold fast!' was all Tom's answer; and when Hilda had nestled down in his soft white fur and clasped her arms round his neck he began scratching at the hole with both his fore-paws, and throwing up the dirt in a mighty heap behind; till in a wonderfully short time a large passage was made, opening towards the centre of the earth.
'Hold fast!' said Tom again, and into the passage they went.