"That fool, Jan Lubber Fiend, will ever be at his tricks.

'Tis my young mistress that encourages him, more is the pity! For poor serving-men are held responsible for his knavish on-goings.

Why, I had just set him cross-legged in the yard with a basket of pease to shell, seeing how he grows as much as a foot in the night--or near by.

But so soon as my back is turned he will be forever answering the door and peeping out into the street to gather the mongrel boys about him.

'Tis a most foul Lubber Fiend to keep about an honest house, plaguing decent folks withal!" By this time the great oaf had come back to the door of the house, and now stood alternately rubbing his elbow and rear, with an expression ludicrously penitent, at once puzzled and kindly.
"Ah, come in with you, will you ?" said the man.