He tiptoed back to the door in the knot-hole, and looked down at a bush with long thorns on it, that grew close by. “I’ll do it,” he said to himself; “I’ll break off the thorns and put them in the nest, so that the owls just can’t stay there.” In a moment he was down on the bush and tugging at a tough thorn. As soon as it broke off, he lifted it on his shoulder and clambered up the rough bark of the tree to the great black hole where the owls lived. When he looked down into it, there they were in the nest, fluffy and gray, and fast asleep. Very quietly he slipped down, and set the thorn in the side of the nest, with the point sticking out. After that, he softly clambered out again. Up and down, up and down the tree he climbed again and again, carrying thorns and quietly setting them in the nest, and as he went up and down he kept whispering to himself: “I’m a gamblesome elf; oh, yes, indeed I _am_ a gamblesome elf.” After he thought he had put enough in the nest, he went into old Granddaddy Thistletop’s kitchen, and, crouching down by the fireplace, he listened. It was getting to be twilight now, and the owls were beginning to stir. Presently he heard a voice cry out: “Ouch! Flipperty is sticking his toes into me.” “No I ain’t, neither,” said another voice. “It’s Pinny-winny. There, she’s doing it to me, too. Now just you stop.” “’Tain’t me,” cried a little squeaky voice; “it’s Screecher hisself. Ow! Ow! I’m going to tell,” and she began to cry. “You naughty little owls,” cried the Mother Owl’s voice, “what do you mean by digging your little sister?” “I didn’t,” cried Screecher and Flipperty, together. “Ouch! Ouch! There’s something sharp in the nest.” “My dear,” said old Father Owl’s voice from the branch outside, “can’t you keep those children quiet?” “Quiet indeed!” cried old Mother Owl. “Here is the nest all set full of thorns, and you expect them to be quiet. No wonder the poor children make a noise. Just you come here and help me get the thorns out.” “Thorns!” cried Father Owl. “How did they get in there?” “That’s more than I can tell,” said the Mother Owl. “Perhaps it’s old Granddaddy Thistletop’s doings. I thought those fairies had gone away, but they must be down there still. I’ll just fly down and see, and if they are, I’ll make them sorry enough.” With that, down flew the Mother Owl, and putting one big yellow eye at the kitchen window, she looked in. “Who-o-o! you fairies,” she cried, “are you in there still?” At first, her eye looked so very big and yellow that Teddy was frightened. Then he remembered that he was a gamblesome elf, so he made a face at her, and began to hop up and down and twirl about on his toes, singing: “I won’t go away! I won’t go away! I’ll stay all night, and I’ll stay all day. Oh, my cap and toes! I’m a gamblesome elf. Old owl, you had better look out for yourself.”