wouldn't.

Then she threatened to "give him the stick," but it was no use.

The more she begged and scolded, the more he shook his head; and when at
last she lost patience and cried that the fairies would surely come and
fetch him away, he only laughed and said he wished they _would_, for he
would like one to play with.

At that his mother burst into tears, and went off to bed in despair,
certain that after such words something dreadful would happen; while her
naughty little son sat on his stool by the fire, not at all put out by
her crying.

But he had not long been sitting there alone, when he heard a
fluttering sound near him in the chimney and presently down by his side
dropped the tiniest wee girl you could think of; she was not a span
high, and had hair like spun silver, eyes as green as grass, and cheeks
red as June roses. The little boy looked at her with surprise.

"Oh!" said he; "what do they call ye?"

"My own self," she said in a shrill but sweet little voice, and she
looked at him too. "And what do they call ye?"

"Just my own self too!" he answered cautiously; and with that they began
to play together.

She certainly showed him some fine games. She made animals out of the
ashes that looked and moved like life; and trees with green leaves