She upped
an' she oped it, and there were the little oo'd thing, with five skeins
of flax on his arm.
"Here te be," says he, an' he gonned it to her.
"Now, what's my name?" says he.
"What, is that Bill?" says she.
"Noo, that ain't," says he. An' he twirled his tail.
"Is that Ned?" says she.
"Noo, that ain't," says he. An' he twirled his tail.
"Well, is that Mark?" says she.
"Noo, that ain't," says he. An' he twirled his tail harder, an' awa' he
flew.
Well, when har husban' he come in, there was the five skeins riddy for
him.
"I see I shorn't hev for to kill you to-night, me dare," says he.
"You'll hev yar vittles and yar flax in the mornin'," says he, an' away
he goes.
Well, ivery day the flax an' the vittles, they was browt, an' ivery day
that there little black impet used for to come mornin's and evenin's.
An' all the day the darter, she set a tryin' fur to think of names to
say to it when te come at night. But she niver hot on the right one. An'
as that got to-warts the ind o' the month, the impet that began for to
look soo maliceful, an' that twirled that's tail faster an' faster each
time she gave a guess.
At last te came to the last day but one. The impet that come at night
along o' the five skeins, an' that said:
"What, hain't yew got my name yet?"
"Is that Nicodemus?" says she.
"Noo, t'ain't," that says.
Pages:
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148