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The blacksmith had not begun his work at the usual time that day. He had spent over a quarter of an hour trying to light his fire and had only half succeeded.

“I wish it were out,” he heard some one say.

“Rascal!” shouted the smith. “How dare you make fun of a good Christian man?” He seized his hammer and rushed outside. But Tony had such a holy terror of this grimy man that he ran away as fast as his legs could carry him, and is probably still running, in which case, no doubt, he has met with many adventures on the way.



Hop-o’-my-Thumb and a Duck

HOP-O’-MY-THUMB

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He and his mother lived in a little hut made of dried leaves.

The little fellow was very fond of pancakes, and on Christmas Eve he begged his mother to make a dozen.

The latter replied, “Oh, Hop-o’-my-Thumb, my son, I have no butter, wood, or milk, and we are too poor to buy such things.”

Hop-o’-my-Thumb was very sad and sat down on a stool by the fire, while his mother went to fetch water from the stream.

Suddenly he heard some one call him, and looking up he espied a little lady standing at his elbow.

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