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 capricious child, threw away the bilberries that the affectionate mother gave him, crying all the while as if he had been pitted. This was too much for her patience; o he called out, ‘Number-Nip! do come, and eat me up this qualling child.’ That moment the pirit appeared in his collier’s hape, and, tepping up to the woman, aid, ‘Here am I, what is thy will?’ This apparition threw her into great conternation; but, as he was none of your nervous hyterical damels, he oon collected her pirits: and taking courage he replied, ‘I called thee only to till the children, and now they have done crying I have no further occaion for thee, but am, nevertheles, obliged for thy good will.’ ‘Dot thou not know,’ returned the Gnome, ‘that no one takes uch a liberty here, without paying dear for his rahnes? I will take thee at thy word: give me the child that cried, and I will eat him up; I have not met with uch a tender morel this many a day.’ On