“To her, my lad!” creaked the crone; then the black Cat darted through the air, and plunged over the Archivarius’ head toward the door; but the gray Parrot fluttered out against him and caught him with his crooked bill by the nape, till red fiery blood burst down over his neck; and Serpentina’s voice cried:  “Saved!  Saved!” Then the crone, foaming with rage and desperation, darted out upon the Archivarius; she threw the Golden Pot behind her, and holding up the long talons of her skinny fists, was for clutching the Archivarius by the throat; but he instantly doffed his nightgown, and hurled it against her.  Then, hissing, and sputtering, and bursting, shot blue flames from the parchment leaves, and the crone rolled round in howling agony, and strove to get fresh earth from the Pot, fresh parchment leaves from the books, that she might stifle the blazing flames; and whenever any earth or leaves came down on her the flames went out.  But now, as if coming from the interior of the Archivarius, there issued fiery crackling beams, and darted on the crone.

“Hey, hey!  To it again!  Salamander!  Victory!” clanged the Archivarius’ voice through the chamber; and a hundred bolts whirled forth in fiery circles round the shrieking crone.  Whizzing and buzzing flew Cat and Parrot in their furious battle; but at last the Parrot, with his strong wing, dashed the Cat to the ground; and with his talons transfixing and holding fast his adversary, which, in deadly agony, uttered horrid mews and howls, he, with his sharp bill, picked out his glowing eyes, and the burning froth spouted from them.  Then thick vapor streamed up from the spot where the crone, hurled to the ground, was lying under the nightgown; her howling, her terrific, piercing cry of lamentation died away in the remote distance.  The smoke, which had spread abroad with irresistible smell, cleared off; the Archivarius picked up his nightgown, and under it lay an ugly Parsnip.

“Honored Herr Archivarius, here, let me offer you the vanquished foe,” said the Parrot, holding out a black hair in his beak to Archivarius Lindhorst.

“Very well, my worthy friend,” replied the Archivarius; “here lies my vanquished foe too; be so good now as to manage what remains.  This very day, as a small douceur, you shall have six cocoanuts, and a new pair of spectacles also, for I see the Cat has villainously broken your glasses.

“Yours forever, most honored friend and patron!” answered the Parrot, much delighted; then took the Parsnip in his bill, and fluttered out with it by the window which Archivarius Lindhorst had opened for him.