orge
Cheetham--for that was the farmer's name--scaring his maids, worrying
his men, and frightening the poor children out of their seven senses, so
that at last not even a mouse durst show himself indoors at the farm, as
he valued his whiskers, five minutes after the clock had struck twelve.

It had long been remarked that whenever a merry tale was told on a
winter's evening a small shrill voice was heard above all the rest, like
a baby's penny trumpet, joining in with the laughter.

"Weel laughed, Boggart, thou'rt a fine little tyke, I'se warrant, if one
could but just catch glent on thee," said Robert, the youngest of the
farmer's sons, early one evening, a little before Christmas, for
familiarity had made them somewhat bold with their invisible guest. Now,
though more pleasant stories were told on that night beside the hearth
than had been told there for the three preceding months, though the fire
flickered brightly, though all the faces around it were full of mirth
and happiness, and though everything, it might seem, was there which
could make even a Boggart enjoy himself, yet the small shrill laugh was
heard no more that night after little Bob's remark.

Robert, who was a short stout fellow for his age, slept in the same bed
with his elder brother John, who was reckoned an uncommonly fine and
tall lad for his years. No sooner had they got fairly to sleep than they
were roused by the small shrill voice in their room shouting out,
"Little tyke, indeed! little tyke thysel'. Ho, ho, ho! I'll have my
laugh now--Ho, ho, ho!"

The room was completely dark, and all in and about the house was so
still that the sound scared them fearfully. The concluding screech made
the place echo again;--but this strange laughter was not necessary to
prevent little Robert from further sleep, as he found himself one moment
seized by the feet and pulled to the bottom of the bed, and the next
moment dragged up again on his pillow. This was no sooner done, than by
the same invisible power he was pulled down again, and then his head
would be dragged back, and placed as high as his brother's.

"Short and long won't match,--short and long won't match,--ho, ho, ho!"
shouted the well-known voice of the Boggart, between each adjustment of
little Robert with his tall brother, and thus were they both wearied for
more than a hundred times; yet so great was their terror, that neither
Robert nor his brother--"Long John," as he ever afterwards was
ca