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Updated: May 7, 2025
Cotton, a clever tailor, had the honour of making a Sunday coat for the mayor of the town. He worked diligently at it, but you can easily imagine that in the heat of the summer afternoon, the needle soon dropped from his hand, and he fell fast asleep. Hush! look there. One little goblin after the other crept cautiously from his hiding place.
The Prince could hardly be said to have accepted this invitation, for he had no time to move before he found himself transported to the interior of the rock; and there he stood in the middle of a large, square room, that hung dimly lighted by a red lantern from the roof. The Red Rock Goblin sat facing him, at a little round table.
This is the secret of the Spectre-Scullion, fully revealed by Wilhelmina many years after. This one short glance into the Satan's Invisible-World of the Berlin Palace, we could not but afford the reader, when an actual Goblin of it happened to be walking in our neighborhood.
One night a Goblin, who always watched the fairies, happened to be sitting under a bush and saw the Little Fairy. "What is she doing here all alone?" he said to himself. "She has run away from her sisters, and I am quite sure the Queen does not know where she is. I'll watch her, and if she is up to mischief I'll tell the Queen. Maybe she will give me a new red coat for telling her."
The sea folks sat at table in great water-tubs, and they said it was just like being at home. All behaved themselves properly excepting the two young northern goblins; they put their legs on the table and thought they were all right. "Feet off the table-cloth!" said the old goblin. They obeyed, but not immediately.
The little Goblin had never even dreamt of such a splendid sight, much less seen it. He stood on tiptoe gazing and gazing, till the candle in the attic was put out; the student had blown it out and had gone to bed, but the Goblin remained standing outside listening to the music, which very softly and sweetly was now singing the student a lullaby.
Why, the goblin faces were small white specks of foam that I could hardly see; and their yelling voices were a smooth, round, swelling tone, that rolled like music through the rigging.
My blood ran cold, as I looked from Goblin, down into the vaults, where these forgotten creatures, with recollections of the world outside: of wives, friends, children, brothers: starved to death, and made the stones ring with their unavailing groans.
So he went down stairs again into the huckster's shop, and it was a good thing he got back when he did, for the cask had almost worn out the lady's tongue; he had given a description of all that he contained on one side, and was just about to turn himself over to the other side to describe what was there, when the goblin entered and restored the tongue to the lady.
But the goblin was angry that any one should dare to say such things to a huckster who lived in his own house and sold the best butter.
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