th. He was four feet six inches high,
and wore a pointed cap as long as himself. It was decorated with a black
feather about three feet long. Around his body was folded an enormous
black, glossy-looking cloak much too long for him. As he knocked again
he caught sight of Gluck.

"Hollo!" said the little gentleman, "that's not the way to answer the
door; I'm wet, let me in."

To do the little gentleman justice, he _was_ wet. His feather hung down
between his legs like a beaten puppy's tail, dripping like an umbrella;
and from the ends of his moustaches the water was running into his
waistcoat pockets, and out again like a mill stream.

"I beg pardon, sir," said Gluck, "I'm very sorry, but I really can't."

"Can't what?" said the old gentleman.

"I can't let you in, sir,--I can't, indeed; my brothers would beat me to
death, sir, if I thought of such a thing. What do you want, sir?"

"Want?" said the old gentleman, petulantly, "I want fire and shelter;
and there's your great fire there blazing, crackling, and dancing on the
walls, with nobody to feel it. Let me in, I say; I only want to warm
myself."

Gluck had had his head, by this time, so long out of the window that he
began to feel it was really unpleasantly cold, and when he turned and
saw the beautiful fire rustling and roaring, and throwing long, bright
tongues up the chimney, as if it were licking its chops at the savoury
smell of the leg of mutton, his heart melted within him that it should
be burning away for nothing. "He does look _very_ wet," said little
Gluck; "I'll just let him in for a quarter of an hour." Round he went to
the door, and opened it; and as the little gentleman walked in, through
the house came a gust of wind that made the old chimneys totter.

"That's a good boy," said the little gentleman. "Never mind your
brothers. I'll talk to them."

"Pray, sir, don't do any such thing," said Gluck. "I can't let you stay
till they come; they'd be the death of me."

"Dear me," said the old gentleman, "I'm very sorry to hear that. How
long may I stay?"

"Only till the mutton's done, sir," replied Gluck, "and it's very
brown."

Then the old gentleman walked into the kitchen, and sat himself down on
the hob, with the top of his cap accommodated up the chimney, for it
was a great deal too high for the roof. "You'll soon dry there, sir,"
said Gluck, and sat down again to turn the mutton. But the old gentleman
did _not_ dry there, but went on drip,