“I have come to-day at noon,
Will you give up the magic spoon?”
The little dwarf was angry, you may be sure. He shook his head and cried,
“I will not give my spoon away;
You need not call another day.”
Then old Cross-Patch shook his fist at the little dwarf and ran down the road. “I have spoiled your corn,” he called back, but this time the little dwarf did not answer him.
The next night there was a great noise, and five and twenty little dwarfs came and blew so much soot down the chimney that everything in the little dwarf’s house was ruined.
I should say everything except one was ruined. The box in which the little dwarf kept the spoon and necklaces was safe because it was under his pillow.
The next morning old Cross-Patch came as before and said,
“Here I am at break of day;