"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.
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