This wasn't at all what he meant to
say, and it sounded very ridiculous; but somehow the words _wouldn't_
come straight. The Hole-keeper, however, seemed perfectly satisfied,
and, picking up his book, said, "Well, just wait till I can't find your
name," and began hurriedly turning over the leaves.

Davy saw, to his astonishment, that there was nothing whatever in the
book, all the leaves being perfectly blank, and he couldn't help saying,
rather contemptuously:--

"How do you expect to find my name in _that_ book? There's nothing in
it."

"Ah! that's just it, you see," said the Hole-keeper, exultingly; "I look
in it for the names that ought to be out of it. It's the completest
system that ever was invented. Oh! here you aren't!" he added, staring
with great satisfaction at one of the blank pages. "Your name is Rupsy
Frimbles."

"It's nothing of the sort," said Davy, indignantly.

"Tut! Tut!" said the Hole-keeper. "Don't stop to contradict or you'll be
too late;" and Davy felt himself gently lifted off his feet and pushed
head-foremost into the hole. It was quite dark and rather sticky, and
smelt strongly of burnt sugar, and Davy had a most unpleasant time of it
crawling through on his hands and knees. To add to his distress, when he
came out at the further end, instead of being, as he had hoped, in the
open country, he found himself in a large room, with a lofty ceiling,
through which a brilliant light was mysteriously shining. The floor was
of tin, and greased to such a slippery degree that Davy could hardly
keep his feet, and against the walls on all sides were ranged long rows
of little tin chairs glistening like silver in the dazzling light.

The only person in the room was a little man, something like the
Hole-keeper in appearance, but denser and darker in the way of
complexion, and dressed in a brown paper tunic and cocked hat.

This little creature was carrying a pail, and apparently varnishing the
chairs with a little swab as he moved swiftly about the room; and, as he
came nearer, Davy determined to speak to him.

"If you please," he began.

The little man jumped back apparently in the greatest alarm, and, after
a startled look at Davy, shuffled rapidly away and disappeared through a
door at the further end of the room. The next moment a confused sound of
harsh voices came through the door, and the little man reappeared,
followed by a perfect swarm of creatures so exactly like himself that it
seemed