'I see how it is,' he then said, forcing himself to laugh and pushing up his wig; 'evidently the little voice that said Oh! oh! was all my imagination! Let us set to work again.'
But as all the same he was in a great fright, he tried to sing to give himself a little courage.
Putting the axe aside he took his plane, to plane and polish the bit of wood; but whilst he was running it up and down he heard the same little voice say, laughing:
'Have done! you are tickling me all over!'
This time poor Master Cherry fell down as if he had been struck by lightning. When he at last opened his eyes he found himself seated on the floor.
His face was quite changed, even the end of his nose, instead of being crimson, as it was nearly always, had become blue from fright.