Corette ran off as he had asked, and he went back to his spool.  He took it up and walked slowly to his house, carefully unwinding the thread as he went.  The church was not very far from the sea-shore, so he soon joined Corette.  With her assistance he then unwound the rest of the thread, and made a little coil.  He next gave the coil to Corette to hold, cautioning her to be very careful, and then he ran off to where some bits of wood were lying, close to the water’s edge.  Selecting a little piece of thin board he pushed it into the water, and taking a small stick in his hand, he jumped on it, and poled it along to where Corette was standing.  The ocean here formed a little bay where the water was quite smooth.

“Now, Corette,” said the Condensed Pirate, “we must be very careful.  I will push this ashore and you must step on board, letting out some of the thread as you come.  Be sure not to pull it tight.  Then I will paddle out a little way, and as I push, you must let out more thread.”

Corette did as she was directed, and very soon they were standing on the little raft a few yards from shore.  Then her companion put down his stick, and took the coil of thread.

“What are you going to do?” asked Corette.  She had wanted to ask before, but there did not seem to be time.

“Well,” said he, “we can’t make ourselves any bigger—­at least, I don’t know how to do it, and so I’m going to condense the whole country.  The little pink ball is on top of the steeple, which is higher than anything else about here, you know.  I can’t knock the ball off at the proper time, so I’ve tied a thread to it to pull it off.  You and I are outside of the place, on the water, so we wont be made any smaller.  If the thing works, everybody will be our size, and all will be right again.”

“Splendid!” cried Corette.  “But how will you know when things are little enough?”

“Do you see that door in my house, almost in front of us?  Well, when I was of the old size, I used just to touch the top of that door with my head, if I didn’t stoop.  When you see that the door is about my present height, tell me to stop.  Now then!”

The Condensed Pirate began to count, and instantly the whole place, church, houses, fields, and of course the people who were in bed, began to shrink!  He counted a good while before Corette thought his door would fit him.  At last she called to him to stop.  He glanced at the door to feel sure, counted one more, and pulled the thread.  Down came the ball, and the size of the place was fixed!

The whole of the sweet marjoram country was now so small that the houses were like bandboxes, and the people not more than four or five inches high—­excepting some very tall people who were six inches.

Drawing the ball to him, the Condensed Pirate pushed out some distance, broke it from the thread, and threw it into the water.

“No more condensing!” said he.  He then paddled himself and Corette ashore, and running to his cottage, threw open the door and looked about him.  Everything was just right!  Everything fitted!  He shouted with joy.