ushed to his food-box,
shouting, "Will ye, oh, will ye, ye nibbling thieves!" And, opening the
door, he flung it after the blankets--Sudd-loaves, Nanoes, river-weed,
and all. And he stood a minute in the doorway, looking out on the cold,
moonlit snow.

"Shut to the door, shut to the door, Master Fish-catcher," called Nod.
"I hear a distant harp-playing."

The Gunga very quickly shut the door at that. But he came to the fire
and stood leaning on his hand, looking into it, very sullen and angry.
"Did I not say it, Prince of Tishnar?" he said. "My blankets are gone
already. Stolen!"

"Sleep softly, my friend," said Nod, "and weary me not with talking.
There's better rams in the forest than ever were flayed. Your blankets
will creep back, never fear. Even to a Mullabruk his own fleas! But,
there! I'll make magic even this very moment, and to-morrow, when you go
down to the river to fetch up the fish, there shall your blankets be,
folded and civeted, on the stones by the water."

Then he rose up in his littleness, and began to dance slowly from one
foot to the other, waving his lean arms over the fire, and singing, in
the secret language of the Mulla-mulgars, as loud as ever he could:

"Thumb, Thimble, Mulgar meese,
In your blankets dream at ease,
And never mind the frozen fleas;
But don't forget the loaves and cheese!"

"It is very strange magic," said the Fish-catcher.

"Nay," said Nod; "they were very strange fleas."

"And 'Thumthimble'--what does that mean?"

"'Thumb' means short and fat, and 'Thimble' means long and lean, which
is Mulgar-royal for both kinds, Master Fish-catcher."

"Ohe! the Prince knows best," said the old Gunga; "but _I_ never heard
such magic. And I've watched the Dancing Oomgars leagues and leagues
from here, and drummed them home to their Shes."

Nod yawned.

As soon as it was daybreak the old Fish-catcher, who had scarcely slept
a wink for thinking of the fishes he was to have for his breakfast, came
and woke Nod up. And Nod said: "Now I go, Master Fish-catcher; but be
sure you do not venture one toe's breadth beyond the door till you hear
me bringing back the fishes."

"How can the Prince carry them, fishes big as that?" said the Gunga.

"One at a time, my friend, as Ephelantoes root up trees," said Nod,
staring at his bristling arms and tusks of teeth. "Ohe!" he went on,
"when you hear my sweet-sounding Water-middens' song, you will not be
able to keep your