Oh, what a race was there! They ran so fast that the two small bodies were as one. They looked like the dark band on the humming-top when you spin it. And just as Tiny was about to catch him, the Elf leaped into a pan, swam across three pails of milk, climbed the wall and hid on a shelf.
“We’ve lost him; we’ve lost him!” cried all the children. But, just in time, Grandmother Grey seized her jelly-bag, swung it across the shelf, and into it was swept our little elfin friend.
“Now, children,” said she, “Go up and dress.”
The children did not know what the old dame was going to do next. She led the way into the parlor. “Tiny,” said she, “I depend on you to keep watch for us.” So Tiny stood like a soldier, with both ears cocked and his nose down bent, and watched every motion that was going on in the bag, which stood up now like a tent on the floor.
’Twas but a minute before the children were down again, all dressed. The tea-kettle was singing, and the hot rolls were on the table, and everybody was ringing the bell all at once for more eggs. But Tiny stood guard over the jelly-bag tent.
“I think the Elf is hungry and thirsty,” said Toody. So she slipped a saucer of milk under the edge of the tent, and then, laughing, she rolled in an egg. They all listened for ten minutes, and then they plainly heard the crackling of the shell.
“Away with the tea things!” said Dame Grey to Martha, the maid. “And bring me my white wicker bird-cage.”
So the bird-cage was brought, and Grandmother Grey took up the jelly-bag carefully, clapped its mouth to the open cage-door, shook it, and—pop! in went the Elf, and the cage door was made fast! Did he moan? Did he complain? Not he. With one spring and ten kicks he climbed to the pole and seated himself there, with his hands on the pole.
Toody ran close to the cage, and so did Crocus and Twig; and Kitty, a little farther off, stood staring and smiling. But the Elf was not a bit frightened. He sat swinging his little legs, with his tongue in his left cheek and his left eye looking down with a half-winking, impertinent air.
“Now,” cried Dame Grey, “tell us who you are, little Sir, and what you are. Do you know that you have spoilt all my cream, and broken my best china-cup? Speak up now! What have you to say for yourself?”