able to support his great misshapen head, his eyes turned green and staring, and his mouth was stretched from ear to ear. Instead of his queue, a narrow wooden cloak hung down upon his back, with which he moved his lower jaw.
The watchmaker and astronomer were benumbed with terror and affright, while Lady Mouserings rolled bleeding and kicking upon the floor. Her malice did not go unpunished, for young Drosselmeier had trodden upon her neck so heavily with the sharp heel of his shoe that she could not survive. When Lady Mouserings lay in her last agonies, she squeaked and whimpered in a piteous tone: "Oh, Crackatuck! hard nut—hi, hi!—of thee I now must die!—que, que—son with seven crowns will bite—Nutcracker—at night—hi, hi—que, que—and revenge his mother's death—short breath—must I—hi, hi—die, die—so young—que, que—oh, agony!—queek!" With this cry, Lady Mouserings died, and the royal oven-heater carried out
