The echo had got it right this time. Evidently it must have been a very young echo indeed.
Merrimeg forgot all about the blue bird, and she began to climb the hill to find out who it was that was mocking her.
She didn’t know it, but there was an Echo Dwarf who lived in a cave near the top of the hill, and there lived with him his little boy, a very little boy, who was just learning how to make echoes. Big Hark was the father’s name. Little Hark was the little boy’s name. Big Hark had a great deal of trouble in teaching Little Hark to make echoes, for Little Hark often forgot, and instead of calling back the same words he had heard, he would often call back words of his own. Besides, if the words he had to call back were big words, he always got them mixed up. His father never knew when he was going to make a mess of everything. And when he did that, it made Big Hark so angry he could hardly speak.
Merrimeg went on up the hill, and pretty soon she called out again:
“Why couldn’t I catch the bird with my salt?”
“Too slow!” came back the voice from the top of the hill.
Merrimeg couldn’t understand this at all. She listened for a minute, and then she heard another voice up above her:
