“Softly, good Father Sandman, softly! If you were not so blind you would have seen me. Have you put all your children to bed, old Father Sandman?”

 

“Go along for a teasing, impertinent imp²!”

 

Pipistrello laughed shrilly³ as he swung himself to and fro on the branch of a low shrub⁴, chanting—

 

“Close, little eyelids⁵, close up tight, for the Sandman’s come to town!”

 

The old fellow had gone into his cave; it was nearly dark now. Boum! An old brown shoe came flying out, and, catching⁶ the elf as he swung, toppled him neatly⁷ on to the grass beneath. He was not hurt, for the Sandman goes very softly shod, that the children may not hear him. But he was extremely angry. “Very good!” he cried, shaking his morsel⁸ of a fist; “to-day you, Father Sandman, and to-morrow me! Mark my words, you will be sorry for it before the moon is many nights older.”

 

A chuckle⁹ was heard coming from the cave, and that was all. Pip went off, meditating¹⁰ revenge. In the middle of supper he snapped his fingers gleefully. “The very thing,” he cried; and he began to hum; “Close, little eyelids, close up tight, for the Sandman’s come to town!”

 

Old Father Sandman was hunting about his cave in a fine state of mind. “Ach! where is my bag of sand? Where can it have gone? It is the children’s bedtime; the Nurses and the Mammas will be wondering where I am! My sand-bag, my precious sand-bag—oh, if I could but find it!” The poor old gentleman

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