Plick.
Some one has used my fork.
Glick.
To break
A quarter off my barley-cake!
Whick.
One cherry's missing from my four!
All.
And, goodness gracious, how much more?
- [They gaze at each other in amazement.
Blick. [Whispering.] Brothers, there must be Robbers in the house
Flick. Or Pirates.
Glick. Or Burglars.
Blick. Probably Burglars. If so, they are under the beds; burglars always are. Hush! Let every man look under his own bed.
- [Each Dwarf creeps to his bed, and peers cautiously under it. Then, one after
