buffeted the worthleſs crew out of his domains by ſevere hail-ſtorms, and became ſo fretful that no wanderer ventured upon the mountain without apprehenſion; ſcarce any eſcaped without a ſcourging, and the name Number-Nip had no more been heard in the mountain ſince the memory of man.
One day, as the ſpirit lay baſking by the hedge of his garden, he eſpied, walking along in great unconcern, a female figure, whoſe ſingularity and accompaniments arreſted his whole attention. She had a child at the breaſt, another rode on her back, a third ſhe led by the hand, and a fourth carried an empty baſket with a rake, for ſhe was come for a baſket of leaves for her cattle at home. ‘Truly a mother,’ thinks Number-Nip, ‘muſt be a kind affectionate creature; ſee how ſhe drags herſelf along with her load of four children, and over and above attends to her houſhold buſineſs, and all without a murmur: this is in faith buy-
‘ing
