was a giant too. So when the boot was left in his workshop, he
contrived to peep out a little, and saw, instead of another
Huggermugger, only a crooked little dwarf, not more than two or three
times bigger than himself. He went by the name of Kobboltozo.

"Tell your husband," says he, "that I will look into his boot
presently--I am busy just at this moment--and will bring it myself to
his house."

Little Jacket was quite relieved to feel that he was safe out of the
giant's house, and that the giantess had gone. "Now," thought he, "I
think I know what to do."

After a while, Kobboltozo took up the bout and put his hand down into
it slowly and cautiously. But Little Jacket resolved to keep quiet
this time. The dwarf were felt around so carefully, for fear of having
his finger pricked, and his hand was so small in comparison with that
of the giant's, that Little Jacket had time to dodge around his
fingers and down into the toe of the boot, so that Kobboltozo could
feel nothing there. He concluded, therefore, that whatever it was that
hurt the giant and his wife, whether needle, or pin, or tack, or
thorn, it must have dropped out on the way to his shop. So he laid the
boot down, and went for his coat and hat. Little Jacket knew that now
was his only chance of escape--he dreaded being carried back to
Huggermugger--so he resolved to make a bold move. No sooner was the
dwarf's back turned, as he went to reach down his coat, than Little
Jacket rushed out of the boot, made a spring from the table on which
it lay, reached the floor, and made his way as fast as he could to a
great pile of old boots and shoes that lay in a corner of the room,
where he was soon hidden safe from any present chance of detection.