The grandmother set the bowl of tea before him; but it was so hot it burned his mouth, and he kicked it down hill, smashing the old lady's best china bowl into a hundred pieces. He was angry when she presented the looking glass, thinking she wished to make fun of him, because he was so small. The plaited cap, he said, was not made for a man like him to wear, and he tore it all to shreds. Then, turning to Floribel, he said, “Well, my little girl, what pretty book is that you have in your hand? Ah, the History of Jack the Giant-killer. A splendid fellow was Jack! my great-grandfather. Just the book I have always wished to read. Family archives, you know. And what is this I behold? What, a splendid red chariot! and what a sweet little doll within! How dumb and amiable she appears! She shall certainly be my wife, and these four horses shall draw us all over the world.” He sprang into the wagon, seating himself beside the erect little doll, who immediately began to move her quiet eyes; the horses shook their manes, and pranced about; and away drove Hoppletyhop, calling out to Floribel as he disappeared, “Wish your three wishes, and they shall be granted, whatever they may be.” Then her old grandmother and grandfather implored her, with tears in their eyes, to wish they might be young again. Floribel thought that would be delightful, for then they could all go blackberrying together; so she said in a commanding voice, “I wish my grandmother and grandfather to be young again;” but she did not think to say how young, and the next moment was surprised to see two little babies, lying among the violets, kicking and crying with all their might. “O, dear me!” she exclaimed. “The poor little things! How they do cry! What shall I do with them? I do wish grandmother were here, to help me take care of them!” and one little baby was immediately changed back into her grandmother. “How could you wish me to be old again, Floribel?” she exclaimed. “Pray wish me to be just seventeen.” Then the grandfather began to cry most clamorously, and Floribel knew he also wished to be seventeen, instead of a little, helpless baby. She did not know what to do, for with only one wish left, she could not both wish her grandfather to be older, and her grandmother to be younger. While she was standing in this perplexity, half stunned by the cries of her grandfather, and the entreaties of her grandmother, she chanced to spy a little dog running along, wagging its tail, and without thinking, cried, “O dear, I wish I were a little dog, and then I should not have to choose!” and in the twinkling of an eye, to her great dismay, she became a little brown dog, jumping about.