Self-in-dul-gent people are al-ways un-grate-ful; and so the o-gress
pro-ved, for she was con-ti-nu-al-ly de-si-ring more and more at the
hands of poor Wil-lie, un-til he had no rest: and, one day, when she had
been more im-po-sing than u-su-al, he turn-ed round, and told her that
she left him hard-ly time to sleep, and that her ap-pe-tite was
fright-ful.

Could you have seen her face, you would have been as fright-en-ed as
Wil-lie was.

"Lit-tle wretch!" scream-ed she, "I have half a mind to snap you up as I
would the wing of a chick-en: and, re-mem-ber from this mo-ment, if my
din-ner is short of what I de-sire, I will eat you to make up for what
you have o-mit-ted."

"Then I shall leave you," said Wil-lie.

[Illustration: THE REAPING.]

Rage made the face of the o-gress glow like a fur-nace, as she made a
pounce at poor Wil-lie for his ill-ad-vis-ed speech; and she would have
caught him in her gripe, had he not dod-ged round a large bun-dle of
ve-ge-ta-bles which luck-i-ly lay on the floor. Round and round she went
af-ter him, un-til he felt that he must be caught; when a ve-ry large
hand grasp-ed her round the waist, and hur-ri-ed her, yell-ing, out of
the kit-chen; Wil-lie fol-low-ing, re-turn-ing thanks for his
de-li-ver-ance. They came to a large win-dow which o-pen-ed to the sea:
the hand thrust the o-gress out, and held her ex-ten-ded over the
roll-ing waves.