from which there came an icy breath, as if from a door that stood open;
it blinked at him with two great eyes like dull, horn lanterns, and
said: "A thief at the Christmas ale"! But Rasmus did not neglect his
opportunity. He flung the heavy jug right in the goblin's face, and ran
away as fast as his legs would carry him. Outside there was moonlight on
the snow; he heard cries and howls down on the shore, and became aware
that goblins were pursuing him in ever-increasing numbers. When he came
to the churchyard wall they were close upon him, and in his extremity he
bethought himself of shouting over the wall: "Help me now, all ye dead!"
for the dead are enemies of the goblins. He heard them all rising, and
noises and yells as of a battle followed. He himself was closely pursued
by a goblin, who was just on the point of springing upon him as he
seized the latch of the door, and got safely in. But then he fell
fainting on the floor. The next day--the first Christmas Day [In Norway,
Christmas Day is called "first Christmas Day"; the day after, "second
Christmas Day," and so on to the end of the week.]--the people going to
church saw, strewn all around on the graves, pieces of coffin-boards,
and all kinds of old sodden oars, and such timbers as usually sink to
the bottom after a shipwreck. They were the weapons that the dead and
the goblins had used, and from various things it could be gathered that
the dead were the victors. They also found both the pewter jug and the
lantern down in the store-house. The pewter jug had been beaten flat
against the goblin's skull, and the goblin had smashed the lantern when
Rasmus escaped.

Komag-Nils could also tell a great deal about people with second sight
and their visions of things, sometimes in the spirit world, sometimes in
actual life, of which they either feel a warning, or--as if in a kind of
atmospheric reflection before their mental vision--can see what is
happening at that very moment in far distant places. They may be sitting