As she touched it, the brass nose seemed to elongate, the open mouth opened still wider, and uttered a roar which made everybody start. The eyes rolled wildly; the arms and legs uncurled themselves, writhed about, and seemed to lengthen with each twist; the Knocker expanded into a figure in yellow livery, six feet high; the screws by which it was fixed to the door unloosed themselves, and Jenkins Gruffanuff once more trod the threshold off which he had been lifted more than twenty years ago! “Master’s not at home,” says Jenkins, just in his old voice; and Mrs. Jenkins, giving a dreadful _youp_, fell down in a fit, in which nobody minded her. For everybody was shouting, “Huzzay! Huzzay!” “Hip, hip, hurray!” “Long live the King and Queen!” “Were such things ever seen?” “No, never, never, never!” “The Fairy Blackstick for ever!” The bells were ringing double peals, the guns roaring and banging most prodigiously. Bulbo was embracing everybody; the Lord Chancellor was flinging up his wig and shouting like a madman; Hedzoff had got the Archbishop round the waist, and they were dancing a jig for joy; and as for Giglio, I leave you to imagine what _he_ was doing, and if he kissed Rosalba once, twice—twenty thousand times, I’m sure I don’t think he was wrong. So Gruffanuff opened the hall door with a low bow, just as he had been accustomed to do, and they all went in and signed the book, and then they went to church and were married, and the Fairy Blackstick sailed away on her cane, and was never more heard of in Paflagonia. AND HERE ENDS THE FIRESIDE PANTOMIME. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Junior Classics, Volume 9: Stories of To-day, by Various