'No; but Granfer Night-rider may have,' answered the little Night-rider. 'He has wonderful eyes for seeing things that are lost.' 'Is Granfer Night-rider here?' asked the Piskey, sending his glance in the direction of the colt, which was almost smothered with Night-riders, some standing on his side as he lay, others still in the stirrups they had made in his tail and mane. 'He was on top of the colt's tail a minute ago,' answered the little Night-rider, following the Piskey's glance. 'There he is,' pointing to a tiny old fellow with a bushy grey beard coming towards them, carrying a tamarisk switch in his hand, with which he lashed the air as he came. He wore a red riding-coat, green breeches, red cap and feather like the other little Night-riders. 'What woebegone little rascal are you?' asked the old Greybeard, staring hard at the Piskey. 'A Piskey who has lost his laugh,' answered the little Night-rider for him, 'and he had the impertinence to want us to stop galloping to tell him if we had seen it.' 'You were very foolish to lose your laugh,' said Granfer Night-rider, standing in front of the unhappy little Piskey. 'How did you manage to lose it?' And the poor little fellow, without lifting his eyes from the sandy ground, told him. 'You are in Queer Lane, my son,' said Granfer Night-rider, when he had told him how he had lost his laugh, 'and I would not give a grain of corn for you.' 'Wouldn't you?' wailed the poor little Piskey. 'No, I wouldn't, nor half a grain either.' Quite a crowd of scarlet-coated little Night-riders had gathered near the Piskey by this time, and had listened to all that was said, and one little Night-rider asked if a Piskey had ever had the misfortune to lose his laugh before. 'Yes, once in the long ago,' answered the old Greybeard, fixing his eye on the little Piskey, who trembled beneath his gaze, 'and what was worse still, he never found it again. And so very unhappy was that little fellow without his laugh, and so miserable did he make everybody with his bewailings, that at last the Piskey tribe to which he belonged sent out a command that whoever found him wandering about the country was to take him in charge as a Piskey vagrant, put him into a Piskey-bag, and hang him upside down like a widdy-mouse in the first cavern they came to. He was found, put into a Piskey-bag, and hung up in a cavern. There he is still, and there he will hang till there are no more Small People!' 'Has the order yet been given for this little Piskey vagrant to be taken up and treated in like manner?' asked another little Night-rider. The poor little Piskey did not wait to hear the answer, but took to his heels and ran as fast as he could to the north, and the little Night-riders who were still standing on the colt watched him till he was out of sight, and Granfer Night-rider and all the other little Night-riders yelled after him to stop, but he did not stop.