However, all of a sudden, she heard a sort of a knocking, low down on the door. She upped and oped it, and what should she see but a small little black thing with a long tail. That looked up at her right curious, and that said: "What are you a-crying for?" "What's that to you?" says she. "Never you mind," that said, "but tell me what-you're a-crying for." "Well," says she, "that won't do no harm, if that don't do no good," and she upped and told about the pies, and the skeins, and everything. "This is what I'll do," says the little black thing, "I'll come to your window every morning and take the flax and bring it spun at night." "What's your pay?" says she. That looked out of the corner of that's eyes, and that said: "I'll give you three guesses every night to guess my name, and if you haven't guessed it before the month's up, you shall be mine." Well, she thought she'd be sure to guess that's name before the month was up. "All right," says she, "I agree." "What's my name?" that says, as that gave her the skeins. "Well, is that Zebedee?" says she again. "Noo, t'ain't," says the impet. And then that laughed, and twirled that's tail till you couldn't hardly see it. "Take time, woman," that says; "next guess, and you're mine!" And that stretched out that's-black hands at her. Well, she backed a step or two, and she looked at it, and then she laughed out, and says she, pointing her finger at it: "NIMMY NIMMY NOT, YOUR NAME'S TOM TIT TOT!" Well, when that heard her, that gave an awful shriek and away that flew into the dark, and she never saw it any more.