Well, when the King, her husband, came in, he was fine and pleased to see the five skeins all ready for him, for he was fond of his pretty wife.

“I shall not have to order your head off, my dear,” says he.  “And I hope all the other days will pass as happily.”  Then he said good-night and locked the door and left her.

But next morning they brought her fresh flax and even more delicious foods.  And the small, little, black Thing came knocking at the window and stuck out its beautiful toes and twirled its tail faster and faster, and took away the bundle of flax and brought it back all spun into five skeins by evening.

Then That made her guess three times what That’s name was; but she could not guess right, and That laughed and laughed and laughed as it flew away.

Now every morning and evening the same thing happened, and every evening she had her three guesses; but she never guessed right.  And every day the small, little, black Thing laughed louder and louder and smirked more and more, and looked at her quite maliceful out of the corners of its eyes until she began to get frightened, and instead of eating all the fine foods left for her, spent the day in trying to think of names to say.  But she never hit upon the right one.

So it came to the last day of the month but one, and when the small, little, black Thing arrived in the evening with the five skeins of flax all ready spun, it could hardly say for smirking: 

“Ain’t you got That’s name yet?”

So says she—­for she had been reading her Bible: 

“Is That Nicodemus?”

“No, it ain’t,” says That, and twirled its tail faster than you could see.

“Is That Samuel?” says she all of a flutter.

“No, it ain’t, my beauty,” chuckles That, looking maliceful.

“Well—­is That Methuselah?” says she, inclined to cry.

Then That just fixes her with eyes like a coal a-fire, and says, “No, it ain’t that neither, so there is only to-morrow night and then you’ll be mine, my beauty.”

And away the small, little, black Thing flew, its tail twirling and whisking so fast that you couldn’t see it.

Well, she felt so bad she couldn’t even cry; but she heard the King, her husband, coming to the door, so she made bold to be cheerful, and tried to smile when he said, “Well done, wife!  Five skeins again!  I shall not have to order your head off after all, my dear, of that I’m quite sure, so let us enjoy ourselves.”  Then he bade the servants bring supper, and a stool for him to sit beside his Queen, and down they sat, lover-like, side by side.

But the poor Queen could eat nothing; she could not forget the small, little, black Thing.  And the King hadn’t eaten but a mouthful or two when he began to laugh, and he laughed so long and so loud that at last the poor Queen, all lackadaisical as she was, said: 

“Why do you laugh so?”