Teddy thought him a very naughty, ugly-tempered little dream, but still he went with him, wondering all the time how he could induce him to let the pretty dream go to Harriett, and as they walked up the road together the pretty dream still followed them, carrying her bunch of bubbles.
They went on and on, until they came to a place where the ground was rough, and broken up with a number of black holes. The ugly dream went from one to another of these, pausing, and laying his ear to their edges.
“What are you doing?” asked Teddy.
“Hush! can’t you see I’m listening?” said the dream crossly.
At last, after pausing at one of them, he turned to Teddy and nodded his head. “This is it,” he said; “this is where Harriett lives.”
“Why, it isn’t at all!” cried Teddy, indignantly. “My cousin Harriett doesn’t live in a hole! She lives in a great big house with doors and windows.”
“Well, anyway, this is her chimney,” said the dream, “and it’s the only way to get into her house from here. If you want to come, come; and if you don’t want to, why, stay,” and the dream sat down on the edge of the hole.
Teddy hesitated. “If I went down that way, I think I’d fall and hurt myself,” he said at last.
“Pooh! No, you wouldn’t if you took my hand,” said the dream. “I always go this way, and it’s as easy as anything.”
So Teddy sat down on the edge of the hole, and grasped the dream’s shadowy fingers in his. Then they pushed themselves off the edge, and down they went through the darkness.