stand that, but struck him hard on the head. He thought he had knocked his own hand to pieces, it gave him such a jar; and the head rung like an iron pot.
“Come, come, young man,” cried the smith; “you keep your hands off my children.”
“Tell them to keep their hands off me, then,” said Colin.
And calling to mind his message, just as they began to crowd about him again with yet more spiteful looks, he added—
“Here, you imps! I won’t stand it longer. Get to your work directly. The old woman with the spindle says you’re to lift Cumberbone Crag a yard higher, and to send a flue under Stonestarvit Moss.”
In a moment they had vanished in the chimney. In a moment more the smithy rocked to its foundations. But the smith took no notice, only worked more furiously than ever. Then came a great crack and a shock that threw Colin on the floor. The smith reeled, but never lost hold of his hammers or missed a blow on the anvil.
“Those boys will do themselves a mischief,” he said; then turning to Colin, “Here, you sir, take that hammer. This is no safe place for idle people. If you don’t work you’ll be knocked to pieces in no time.”
The same moment there came a wind from the chimney that blew all the fire into the middle of the smithy. The smith dashed up upon the forge, and rushed out of sight. Presently he returned with one of the goblins under his arm kicking and screaming, laid his ugly head down on the anvil, where he held him by the neck, and hit him a great blow with his hammer above the ear. The hammer rebounded, the goblin gave a shriek, and the smith flung him into the chimney, saying—
“That’s the only way to serve him . You’ll be more careful for one while, I guess, Slobberkin.”