ng cheerily as they flew, and at a little
distance the Goblin was sitting on the grass, attentively examining a
great, struggling creature that he was holding down by its wings.

"I suppose," said the Goblin, as if Davy's sudden appearance was the
most ordinary thing in the world,--"I suppose that this is about the
funniest bug that flies."

"What is it?" said Davy, cautiously edging away.

"It's a Cricket-Bat," said the Goblin, rapping familiarly with his
knuckles on its hard shell. "His body is like a boot-jack, and his wings
are like a pair of umbrellas."

"But, you know, a Cricket-Bat is something to play with!" said Davy,
surprised at the Goblin's ignorance.

"Well, _you_ may play with it if you like. _I_ don't want to," said the
Goblin, carelessly tossing the great creature over to Davy, and walking
away.

The Cricket-Bat made a swoop at Davy, knocking him over like a feather,
and then, with a loud snort, flew away across the meadow. It dashed here
and there at flying things of every kind, and, turning on its side,
knocked them, one after another, quite out of sight, until, to Davy's
delight, the Cockalorum came into view, flying across the meadow in his
usual blundering fashion. At sight of him the Cricket-Bat gave another
triumphant snort, and with a wild plunge at the great creature knocked
him floundering into the tall grass, and with a loud, whirring sound
disappeared in a distant wood.

Davy ran to the spot where the Cockalorum had fallen, and found him
sitting helplessly in the grass, looking dreadfully rumpled, and staring
about confusedly, as if wondering what had happened to him. As Davy came
running up he murmured, in a reproachful way, "Oh! it's you, is it?
Well, then, I don't want any more of it."

"Upon my word I didn't do it," cried Davy, trying to keep from laughing.
"It was the Cricket-Bat."

"And what did _he_ want?" murmured the Cockalorum, very sadly.

"Oh! he was only having a game of cricket with you," said Davy,
soothingly. "You were the ball, you know."

The Cockalorum pondered over this for a moment, and then murmuring, "I
prefer croquet," floundered away through the waving grass. Davy, who for
once felt sorry for the ridiculous old creature, was just setting off
after him, when a voice cried, "Come on! Come on!" and Davy, looking
across the meadow, saw the Goblin beckoning vigorously to him,
apparently in great excitement.

"What's the matter?" cried Davy, pushing his way t