But so near the crying, Tommy did not cry, for even while the tears were rushing to his aid he tripped on the step of a shop, and immediately, as if that had rung the magic bell again, a voice, a woman's voice this time, said shrilly, "Threepence ha'penny, and them jimply as big as a bantam's! Na, na, but I'll gi'e you five bawbees." Tommy sat down flop on the step, feeling queer in the head.

Was it--was it--was it Thrums?
He knew he had been running a long time.
The woman, or fairy, or whatever you choose to call her, came out of the shop and had to push Tommy aside to get past.

Oh, what a sweet foot to be kicked by.

At the time, he thought she was dressed not unlike the women of his own stair, but this defect in his vision he mended afterward, as you may hear.

Of course, he rose and trotted by her side like a dog, looking up at her as if she were a cathedral; but she mistook his awe for impudence and sent him sprawling, with the words, "Tak that, you glowering partan!" Do you think Tommy resented this?
On the contrary he screamed from where he lay, "Say it again! say it again!" She was gone, however, but only, as it were, to let a window open, from which came the cry, "Davit, have you seen my man ?" A male fairy roared back from some invisible place, "He has gone yont to Petey's wi' the dambrod." "I'll dambrod him!" said the female fairy, and the window shut.
Tommy was now staggering like one intoxicated, but he had still some sense left him, and he walked up and down in front of this house, as if to take care of it.