her hands one by one and ranged themselves
like the steps of a ladder up the tree; but they were not quite enough
of them to reach the top, so she cried again:
"Oh! toes of mine, for love o' me,
Help my true lover to climb the tree."
Then her toes began to drop off one by one and range themselves like the
rungs of a ladder; but when the toes of one foot had gone to their
places the ladder was tall enough. So Nix Naught Nothing climbed up it,
reached the nest, and got the seven eggs. Now, as he was coming down
with the last, he was so overjoyed at having finished his task, that he
turned to see if the Magician's daughter was overjoyed too: and lo! the
seventh egg slipped from his hand and fell
Crash!
"Quick! Quick!" cried the Magician's daughter, who, as you will observe,
always had her wits about her. "There is nothing for it now but to fly
at once. But first I must have my magic flask, or I shall be unable to
help. It is in my room and the door is locked. Put your fingers, since I
have none, in my pocket, take the key, unlock the door, get the flask,
and follow me fast. I shall go slower than you, for I have no toes on
one foot!"
So Nix Naught Nothing did as he was bid, and soon caught up the
Magician's daughter. But alas! they could not run very fast, so ere long
the Magician, who had once again taken a giant's form in order to have a
long stride, could be seen behind them. Nearer and nearer he came until
he was just going to seize Nix Naught Nothing, when the Magician's
daughter cried: "Put your fingers, since I have none, into my hair, take
my comb and throw it down." So Nix Naught Nothing did as he was bid,
and, lo and behold! out of every one of the comb-prongs there sprang up
a prickly briar, which grew so fast that the Magician found himself in
the middle of a thorn hedge! You may guess how angry and scratched he
was before he tore his way out. So Nix Naught Nothing and his sweetheart
had time for a good start; but the Magician's daughter could not run
fast because she had lost her toes on one foot! Therefore the Magician
in giant form soon caught them up, and he was just about to grip Nix
Naught Nothing when the Magician's daughter cried: "Put your fingers,
since I have none, to my breast. Take out my veil-dagger and throw it
down."
So he did as he was bid, and in a moment the dagger had grown to
thousands and thousands of sharp razors, criss-cross on the ground, and
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