pleased with having stopped the small boy's singing, that he took little
heed of the scanty progress he had made, and looked down into the
grave, when he had finished work for the night, with grim satisfaction,
murmuring as he gathered up his things--

Brave lodgings for one, brave lodgings for one,
A few feet of cold earth, when life is done;
A stone at the head, a stone at the feet,
A rich, juicy meal for the worms to eat;
Rank grass overhead, and damp clay around,
Brave lodgings for one, these, in holy ground!

'"Ho! ho!" laughed Gabriel Grub, as he sat himself down on a flat
tombstone which was a favourite resting-place of his, and drew forth his
wicker bottle. "A coffin at Christmas! A Christmas box! Ho! ho! ho!"

'"Ho! ho! ho!" repeated a voice which sounded close behind him.

'Gabriel paused, in some alarm, in the act of raising the wicker bottle
to his lips, and looked round. The bottom of the oldest grave about him
was not more still and quiet than the churchyard in the pale moonlight.
The cold hoar frost glistened on the tombstones, and sparkled like rows
of gems, among the stone carvings of the old church. The snow lay hard
and crisp upon the ground; and spread over the thickly-strewn mounds
of earth, so white and smooth a cover that it seemed as if corpses lay
there, hidden only by their winding sheets. Not the faintest rustle
broke the profound tranquillity of the solemn scene. Sound itself
appeared to be frozen up, all was so cold and still.

'"It was the echoes," said Gabriel Grub, raising the bottle to his lips
again.

'"It was NOT," said a deep voice.

'Gabriel started up, and stood rooted to the spot with astonishment and
terror; for his eyes rested on a form that made his blood run cold.

'Seated on an upright tombstone, close to him, was a strange, unearthly
figure, whom Gabriel felt at once, was no being of this world. His long,
fantastic legs which might have reached the ground, were cocked up, and
crossed after a quaint, fantastic fashion; his sinewy arms were bare;
and his hands rested on his knees. On his short, round body, he wore a
close covering, ornamented with small slashes; a short cloak dangled at
his back; the collar was cut into curious peaks, which served the goblin
in lieu of ruff or neckerchief; and his shoes curled up at his toes
into long points. On his head, he wore a broad-brimmed sugar-loaf hat,
garnished with a single feather. The hat wa