and threw his hands about as though he were scattering corn for the geese.
But the flock never stopped—on it went, and all that the goody and the man did was to look daggers at the smith for making game of them. Then the smith went on—
"It would be fine fun to see if I could hold the whole flock, so many as they are;" for he was a stout strong fellow, and so he took hold, with his big tongs, by the old man's coat tail, and the man all the while bellowed and wriggled; but Taper Tom only said—
"Hang on, if you care to come with us."
So the smith had to go along too. He bent his back and stuck his heels into the hill, and tried to get loose; but it was all no good; he stuck fast, as though he had been screwed tight with his own anvil, and, whether he would or no, he had to dance along with the rest.
So, when they came near to the king's grange, the mastiff ran out and began to bay and bark as though they were wolves or beggars; and when the princess looked out of the window to see what was the matter, and set eyes on this strange pack, she laughed inwardly. But Taper Tom was not content with that.
"Bide a bit," he said, "she'll soon have to open the door of her mouth wider;" and as he said that he turned off with his band to the back of the grange.
So, when they passed by the kitchen, the door stood open, and the cook was just beating the porridge; but when she saw Taper Tom and his pack she came running out at the door, with her brush in one hand, and a wooden ladle full of smoking porridge in the other,
