"'T isn't so very unsightly," said she, looking hard at him.

Then the woodman saw that if he wished, he must need wish in a hurry;
and wish he did, that the black pudding might come off his nose. Well!
there it lay in a dish on the table, and if the goodman and goodwife
didn't ride in a golden coach, or dress in silk and satin, why, they had
at least as fine a black pudding for their supper as the heart of man
could desire.




The Buried Moon


Long ago, in my grandmother's time, the Carland was all in bogs, great
pools of black water, and creeping trickles of green water, and squishy
mools which squirted when you stepped on them.

Well, granny used to say how long before her time the Moon herself was
once dead and buried in the marshes, and as she used to tell me, I'll
tell you all about it.

The Moon up yonder shone and shone, just as she does now, and when she
shone she lighted up the bog-pools, so that one could walk about almost
as safe as in the day.

But when she didn't shine, out came the Things that dwelt in the
darkness and went about seeking to do evil and harm; Bogles and Crawling