“Hush! hush! my dears. There’s the Clerk and the Corpse-candles.”
“I know the Corpse-candles, Granny. Besides, they make Johnnie dream and he wakes me to keep him company. Why won’t you tell us about the Fairies?”
“My dear, they don’t like it,” said the old lady.
“O Granny dear, why don’t they? Do tell! I shouldn’t think of the bread a bit, if you told us about the Fairies. I know nothing about them.”
“He lived in this house long enough,” said the old lady. “But it’s not lucky to name him.”
“Oh, Granny, we are so hungry and miserable, what can it matter?”
“Well, that’s true enough,” she sighed. “Trouts’ luck is gone; it went with the Brownie, I believe.”
“Was that he, Granny?”
“Yes, my dear, he lived with the Trouts for several generations.”
“What was he like, Granny?”