The Imp In The Chintz Curtain - Part 2

"_I_ should never think you were an earwig--you're too pink and
green--but don't talk, I can hear something buzzing."

"Santa Klaus doesn't buzz," said the Chintz Imp. "He comes down
_flop!_ Once in your aunt's time, I knew him nearly stick in the
chimney. He had too many things in his sack. You should have heard how
he struggled, it was like thunder! Everyone said how high the wind
was."

"I hope he won't do it to-night," said Marianne, "I could never pull
him down by myself!"

As she spoke the room seemed to be violently shaken, and there was a
sound of falling plaster, followed by some loud kicks.

"Whew--w!" cried the Chintz Imp, "he's done it again!"

Marianne started up in great excitement. She sprang from her bed, and
ran towards the old-fashioned fireplace.

Nothing was at first to be seen; but as the fire had died down to a
few hot embers, Marianne could, by craning her head forwards, look
right up into the misty darkness of the great chimney.

There, to her astonishment, she saw a pair of large brown-covered feet
hanging down helplessly; while a deep voice from above cried--

"Get me out of this, or I shall break down the chimney!"

The Imp In The Chintz Curtain - Part 1

He was a wicked-looking Imp, and he lived in a bed curtain.

No one knew he was in the house, not even the master and mistress. The
little girl who slept in the chintz-curtained bed was the only person
who knew of his existence, and she never mentioned him, even to her
old nurse.

She had made his acquaintance one Christmas Eve, as she lay awake,
trying to keep her tired eyes open long enough to see Santa Klaus come
down the chimney. The Imp sprang into view with a _cr-r-r-ick,
cr-r-r-ack_ of falling wood in the great fireplace, and there he stood
bowing to Marianne from the left-hand corner of the chintz curtain.

A green leaf formed his hat, some straggling branches his feet; his
thin body was a single rose-stem, and his red face a crumpled
rose-bud.

A flaw in the printing of the chintz curtain had given him life--a
life distinct from that of the other rose leaves.

"You're lying awake very late to-night--what's that for?" he enquired,
shaking the leaf he wore upon his head, and looking at Marianne
searchingly.

"Why, don't you see I'm waiting for Santa Klaus?" replied Marianne.
"I've always missed him before, but this time _nothing_ shall make me
go to sleep!" She sat up in bed and opened her eyes as widely as
possible.

"He has generally been here before this," said the Imp. "I can
remember your great-aunt sleeping in this very bed and being in just
the same fuss. I got down and danced about all night, and she thought
I was earwigs."

The Troll In The Church Fountain - Chapter 3, Part 3

"That's a good morning's work, wife; if you never do another:" said
the Bride's father, who had come into the kitchen just as Terli upset
the bowl of butter-milk, and fell through the pine branches headlong
into the tub beneath. "We shall live in peace and quietness now, for
Terli was the most mischievous of the whole of the Troll-folk."

The words of the Bride's father proved to be quite true, for after the
capture of the Water-Troll the village enjoyed many years of quietness
and contentment.

As to Terli, he lived in great unhappiness in the Church Fountain;
enduring a terrible series of tooth-aches, but unable to escape from
the magic power of the water.

At the end of that time, however, a falling tree split the sides of
the carved stone basin into fragments, and the Troll, escaping with
the water which flowed out, darted from the Churchyard and safely
reached his old home in the bed of the mountain torrent.

"The Church Fountain is broken, and Terli has escaped," said the good
folks the next morning--and the old people shook their heads gravely,
in alarm--but I suppose Terli had had a good lesson, for he never
troubled the village any more.