Next day Cuisinella put some ripe apricots into a sack and went to the hill where the goblins lived. She knocked again, and called out, “Little Jip, Little Jip!”

His door flew open, and he put his head out and asked what she wanted.

“Little Jip, come and see the sack of apricots I’ve brought you: so orange, so juicy, so sweet!”

“Oh I like apricots. But I’m not coming out. You can leave them outside the door,” said Little Jip, not keen to be caught a second time.

So then Little Jip thought to close the door again, but Cuisinella grabbed his head with her long slender fingers, pulled him out of his doorway and crammed him into the sack on top of her apricots.

“Eat your fill, while you can, my handsome meal,” said she, and slung the sack over her shoulder and walked off towards her home.

On the way she saw a lady seated under a wall by the roadside, breaking stones. On the other side of the wall was a melon patch.

“Sweet melon would go nicely with sweet goblin,” thought Cuisinella. She dumped the sack down beside the stone breaker.

“Mind that for a minute,” said she.

And off she went, hipperty skipperty over the wall to pick a melon.

Once again, Jip was able to enlist the help, this time of the lady stone breaker, to escape the sack. They put a stone in place of Little Jip, and he ran home.

Cuisinella took the sack home, staggering with the extra weight of the stone, which was much heavier than Little Jip had been.

“Ah little rogue,” said she, “I’ll soften you in my stomach directly.”

She got home and opened the sack to another disappointment.

“I’ll get thee yet! I’ll get thee yet! I’ll pay thee out with such a goblin gobbling!” she screamed, “I’ll taste thee slow and taste thee steady and eat thee up and all!”

So what did she do? She disguised herself as a pedlar, took a fruit juice container on her back and went to walk in the wood where she knew Little Jip sometimes liked to play. She had not been in that wood more than a few minutes, when sure enough, Little Jip came skipping along.

“Ah Little Master Goblin,” said nonesuch pedlar Cuisinella, “Look alive, my little boy. The Cuisinella woman is after thee! Don’t you see her long hair sticking out from behind that tree?”

Little Jip didn’t see Cuisinella’s hair where the woman pointed, but he felt a bit alarmed all the same.

“See here she comes!” yelled Cusinella, “Quick, jump into my juice barrel, little goblin boy. I’ll shelter thee!”

She put the barrel on the ground and turned it on its side, so he could easily step straight in. Little Jip ran into the barrel, right to what would be the bottom, once it was upright again, and felt her turning it back to the vertical position. Cusinella sprang the lid down on him and roared with laughter.

“Little handsome goblin, dost thou scent the Cuisinella woman?” she chortled, “Aye, aye, aye, Cuisinella has thee safe this time! And she ain’t going to let thee go, neither!”

And so saying, Cuisinella went scurrying home with the barrel and didn’t stop on the road for anything. When she got home, she took Little Jip out of the barrel and stood him in the pot on the old fashioned stove. Then she went out to fetch some furze to heat up the fire under the stove. She soon returned, warmed up Little Jip and took him to the table.

“Thee won’t escape again,” she said, “And now I’ll gobble thee down.”

Cuisinella loaded Little Jip into her mouth, played with him on her tongue for a while, and then gobbled him down with glee.