he door, whereon was written a notice that the occupier sold milk
and butter. No smoke reeked up from the chimney, and the shutters of the
window were closed, from which we gathered that the folk who owned it
had fled away from their perilous position. On either side the marsh
extended, reedy and shallow at the edge, but deeper at a distance, with
a bright green scum which covered its treacherous surface. We knocked
at the weather-blotched door, but receiving, as we expected, no reply,
I presently put my shoulder against it and forced the staple from its
fastenings.

There was but a single chamber within, with a straight ladder in the
corner, leading through a square hole in the ceiling to the sleeping
chamber under the roof. Three or four chairs and stools were scattered
over the earthen floor, and at the side a deal table with the broad
brown milk basins upon it. Green blotches upon the wall and a sinking
in of one side of the cottage showed the effect of its damp, marsh-girt
position.

To our surprise it had still one inmate within its walls. In the centre
of the room, facing the door as we entered, stood a little bright,
golden-haired maid, five or six years of age. She was clad in a clean
white smock, with trim leather belt and shining buckle about her waist.
Two plump little legs with socks and leathern boots peeped out from
under the dress, stoutly planted with right foot in advance as one who
was bent upon holding her ground. Her tiny head was thrown back, and her
large blue eyes were full of mingled wonder and defiance. As we entered
the little witch flapped her kerchief at us, and shooed as though we
were two of the intrusive fowl whom she was wont to chevy out of the
house. Reuben and I stood on the threshold, uncertain, and awkward, like
a pair of overgrown school lads, looking down at this fairy queen whose
realms we had invaded, in two minds whether to beat a retreat or to
appease her wrath by soft and coaxing words.

'Go 'way!' she cried, still waving her hands and shaking her kerchief.
'Go 'way! Granny told me to tell any one that came to go 'way!'

'But if they would not go away, little mistress,' asked Reuben, 'what
were you to do then?'

'I was to drive them 'way,' she answered, advancing boldly against us
with many flaps. 'You bad man!' she continued, flashing out at me, 'you
have broken granny's bolt.'

'Nay, I'll mend it again,' I answered penitently, and catching up
a stone I soon fastened