Oh, you could see right away that he was afraid of
that little green man.
"Oh, you bad fox, you!" cried the little green man. "Oh, you bad fox!
Just for that I'm going to turn you into a little country village!
Presto, chango! Smacko, Mackeo! Bur-r-r-r!" and he waved his hands at
the fox, who immediately disappeared. And he was changed into a little
country village, with a church, a school and thirty-one houses, and it's
called Foxtown to this very day. I ought to know, for I used to live
there.
"Well, Sammie?" asked the little green man, when the fox had vanished,
"How do you feel now?"
"Much better, kind sir. Thank you. But who are you?"
"Me? Who am I? Why, don't you know?"
"No, indeed, unless you're some relation to Bully, the frog."
"Well, I am a sort of distant thirty-second cousin to him. I am the
green fairy. And to prove it, look here, I will get your ball back for
you."
Then while Sammie looked on, his eyes getting bigger and bigger and his
breath coming faster and faster, until it was like a locomotive or a
choo-choo, whatever you call them, going up hill, if that little green
man didn't wave his hands over that puddle of water, where Sammie's ball
had fallen.
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