"He won't mind that. I'm sure he won't." "Then I'll cry, and go down on my knees to him, and beg him not to take away my own dear Lootie." The nurse was comforted at hearing this, and said no more. They went on, walking pretty fast, but taking care not to run a step. "I want to talk to you," said Irene to the little miner; "but it's so awkward! I don't know your name." "My name's Curdie, little princess." "What a funny name! Curdie! What more?" "Curdie Peterson. What's your name, please?" "Irene." "What more?" "I don't know what more.--What more is my name, Lootie?" "Princesses haven't got more than one name. They don't want it." "Oh then, Curdie, you must call me just Irene, and no more." "No, indeed," said the nurse indignantly. "He shall do no such thing." "What shall he call me, then, Lootie?" "Your royal Highness." "My royal Highness! What's that? No, no, Lootie, I will not be called names. I don't like them. You said to me once yourself that it's only rude children that call names; and I'm sure Curdie wouldn't be rude.--Curdie, my name's Irene." "Well, Irene," said Curdie, with a glance at the nurse which showed he enjoyed teasing her, "it's very kind of you to let me call you anything. I like your name very much." He expected the nurse to interfere again; but he soon saw that she was too frightened to speak. She was staring at something a few yards before them, in the middle of the path, where it narrowed between rocks so that only one could pass at a time. "It's very much kinder of you to go out of your way to take us home," said Irene. "I'm not going out of my way yet," said Curdie. "It's on the other side those rocks the path turns off to my father's." "You wouldn't think of leaving us till we're safe home, I'm sure," gasped the nurse. "Of course not," said Curdie. "You dear, good, kind Curdie! I'll give you a kiss when we get home," said the princess. The nurse gave her a great pull by the hand she held. But at that instant the something in the middle of the way, which had looked like a great lump of earth brought down by the rain, began to move. One after another it shot out four long things, like two arms and two legs, but it was now too dark to tell what they were. The nurse began to tremble from head to foot. Irene clasped Curdie's hand yet faster, and Curdie began to sing again. "One, two-- Hit and hew! Three, four-- Blast and bore! Five, six-- There's a fix! Seven, eight-- Hold it straight. Nine, ten-- Hit again! Hurry! scurry! Bother! smother! There's a toad In the road! Smash it! Squash it! Fry it! Dry it! You're another! Up and off! There's enough!--Huuuuuh!"