"What? Where?" cried a dozen voices.

"Why, don't you see? That dark thing over there by the idiot's cottage."

"I don't see anything," said one.

"I do," shouted another. "It's a dog."

"Where's any dog?" put in a squeaky voice that we have heard before. "It's no such thing--it's a heap of rags."

"Pooh! Voost," retorted another gruffly, "that's about as near the fact as you ever get. It's the goose girl, Gretel, looking for rats."

"Well, what of it?" squeaked Voost. "Isn't SHE a bundle of rags, I'd like to know?"

"Ha! ha! Pretty good for you, Voost! You'll get a medal for wit yet, if you keep on."

"You'd get something else, if her brother Hans were here. I'll warrant you would!" said a muffled-up little fellow with a cold in his head."

As Hans was NOT there, Voost could afford to scout the insinuation.

"Who cares for HIM, little sneezer? I'd fight a dozen like him any day, and you in the bargain."

"You would, would you? I'd like to catch you all at it," and, by way of proving his words, the sneezer skated off at the top of his speed.