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he Goblin was speaking to a large Toad. "Forty croaks," said the Toad, in a husky whisper; and then, as a frog croaked in the pool, he added, "That makes it forty-one. The Snoopers have come in, and Thimbletoes is shaking in his boots." And with these words the Toad coughed, and then hopped heavily away. "What does he mean?" whispered Davy. "He means that the fairies are here, and _that_ means that we won't get our ride," said the Goblin, rather sulkily. "And who is Thimbletoes?" said Davy. "He's the Prime Minister," said the Goblin. "You see, if any one of the Snoopers finds out something the Queen didn't know before, out goes the Prime Minister, and the Snooper pops into his boots. Thimbletoes doesn't fancy that, you know, because the Prime Minister has all the honey he wants, by way of a salary. Now, here's the mouse-stable, and don't you speak a word--mind!" As the Goblin said this they came upon a little thatched building, about the size of a baby-house, standing just beyond the pool; and the Goblin, cautiously pushing open the door, stole noiselessly in, with Davy following at his heels, trembling with excitement. The little building was curiously lighted up by a vast number of fire-flies, hung from the ceiling by loops of cobweb; and Davy could see several spiders hurrying about among them and stirring them up when the light grew dim. The field-mice were stabled in little stalls on either side, each one with his tail neatly tied in a bow-knot to a ring at one side; and, at the farther end of the stable was a buzzing throng of fairies, with their shining clothes and gauzy wings sparkling beautifully in the soft light. Just beyond them Davy saw the Queen sitting on a raised throne, with a little mullen-stalk for a sceptre, and beside her was the Prime Minister, in a terrible state of agitation. "Now, here's this Bandybug," the Prime Minister was saying. "What does _he_ know about untying the knots in a cord of wood?" "Nothing!" said the Queen, positively. "Absolutely nothing!" "And then," continued the Prime Minister, "the idea of his presuming to tell your Gossamer Majesty that he can hear the bark of the dogwood trees"-- "Bosh!" cried the Queen. "Paint him with raspberry jam, and put him to bed in a bee-hive. That'll make him smart, at all events." Here the Prime Minister began dancing about in an ecstasy, until the Queen knocked him over with the mullen-stalk, and shouted, "Silence! and
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