Davy saw, to his astonishment, that there was nothing whatever in the book, all the leaves being perfectly blank, and he couldn't help saying, rather contemptuously:-- "How do you expect to find my name in _that_ book? There's nothing in it." "Ah! that's just it, you see," said the Hole-keeper, exultingly; "I look in it for the names that ought to be out of it. It's the completest system that ever was invented. Oh! here you aren't!" he added, staring with great satisfaction at one of the blank pages. "Your name is Rupsy Frimbles." "It's nothing of the sort," said Davy, indignantly. "Tut! Tut!" said the Hole-keeper. "Don't stop to contradict or you'll be too late;" and Davy felt himself gently lifted off his feet and pushed head-foremost into the hole. It was quite dark and rather sticky, and smelt strongly of burnt sugar, and Davy had a most unpleasant time of it crawling through on his hands and knees. To add to his distress, when he came out at the further end, instead of being, as he had hoped, in the open country, he found himself in a large room, with a lofty ceiling, through which a brilliant light was mysteriously shining. The floor was of tin, and greased to such a slippery degree that Davy could hardly keep his feet, and against the walls on all sides were ranged long rows of little tin chairs glistening like silver in the dazzling light. The only person in the room was a little man, something like the Hole-keeper in appearance, but denser and darker in the way of complexion, and dressed in a brown paper tunic and cocked hat. This little creature was carrying a pail, and apparently varnishing the chairs with a little swab as he moved swiftly about the room; and, as he came nearer, Davy determined to speak to him. "If you please," he began. The little man jumped back apparently in the greatest alarm, and, after a startled look at Davy, shuffled rapidly away and disappeared through a door at the further end of the room. The next moment a confused sound of harsh voices came through the door, and the little man reappeared, followed by a perfect swarm of creatures so exactly like himself that it seemed to Davy as if a thousand of him had come back. At this moment a voice called out, "Bring Frungles this way;" and the crowd gathered around him and began to rudely hustle him across the room. "That's not my name!" cried Davy, struggling desperately to free himself. "It isn't even the name I came in with!" [Illustration: "THE CROWD BEGAN TO HUSTLE HIM ACROSS THE ROOM."] "Tut! Tut!" said a trembling voice near him; and Davy caught sight of the Hole-keeper, also struggling in the midst of the crowd, with his great book hugged tightly to his breast. "What does it all mean?" said Davy, anxiously.