t and high and piping like a little bird
twittering.

Tom touched his hat, and began to think what he ought to say. "Houts!"
says the thing again, "thou needn't be feared o' me; thou 'st done me a
better turn than thou know'st, my lad, and I'll do as much for thee."
Tom couldn't speak yet, but he thought; "Lord! for sure 't is a bogle!"

"No!" says he as quick as quick, "I am no bogle, but ye 'd best not ask
me what I be; anyways I be a good friend o' thine." Tom's very
knee-bones struck, for certainly an ordinary body couldn't have known
what he'd been thinking to himself, but he looked so kind like, and
spoke so fair, that he made bold to get out, a bit quavery like--

"Might I be axing to know your honour's name?"

"H'm," says he, pulling his beard; "as for that"--and he thought a
bit--"ay so," he went on at last, "Yallery Brown thou mayst call me,
Yallery Brown; 't is my nature seest thou, and as for a name 't will do
as any other. Yallery Brown, Tom, Yallery Brown's thy friend, my lad."

"Thankee, master," says Tom, quite meek like.

"And now," he says, "I'm in a hurry to-night, but tell me quick, what'll
I do for thee? Wilt have a wife? I can give thee the finest lass in the
town. Wilt be rich? I'll give thee gold as much as thou can carry. Or
wilt have help wi' thy work? Only say the word."

Tom scratched his head. "Well, as for a wife, I have no hankering after
such; they're but bothersome bodies, and I have women folk at home as
'll mend my clouts; and for gold that's as may be, but for work, there,
I can't abide work, and if thou 'lt give me a helpin' hand in it I'll
thank--"

"Stop," says he, quick as lightning, "I'll help thee and welcome, but if
ever thou sayest that to me--if ever thou thankest me, see'st thou, thou
'lt never see me more. Mind that now; I want no thanks, I'll have no
thanks;" and he stampt his tiddy foot on the earth and looked as wicked
as a raging bull.

"Mind that now, great lump that thou be," he went on, calming down a
bit, "and if ever thou need'st help, or get'st into trouble, call on me
and just say, 'Yallery Brown, come from the mools, I want thee!' and
I'll be wi' thee at once; and now," says he, picking a dandelion puff,
"good-night to thee," and he blowed it up, and it all came into Tom's
eyne and ears. Soon as Tom could see again the tiddy creature was gone,
and but for the stone on end and the hole at his feet, he'd have thought
he'd been dreaming.

Well, Tom went