The Trouble with Pixies, cont'd.

"Today's the day, Bosco 'ole boy," the gnome picked up a spade and twirled it between his fingers, his pet hedgehog an unconcerned lump in a patch of sun laced grass. "Once and for all, I'm gonna rid my garden of those pesky pixies."

Brandishing the spade like a sword, the gnome danced around his yard thrusting and parrying hapless branches and grousing, "They don't pay rent, yet they dare to squat in my tree stump like... like they own the place. Not only that, Boscoe," the gnome struck a pose, the curved end of the spade pointing at the hedgehog who rolled over on his others side with a yawn. "They gorge themselves on ladybugs, which eat the aphids, which eat my plants! Not to mention how they treat the birds who then preen in Neighbor Barley's barely tended petunias. You know what I'm left with, Boscoe? Pests."

"Meddlesome, annoying, good for nuthin' pixies." Dropping the spade on the ground, the gnome bent over to grab a watering can half-filled with Spring rain when he felt a sharp poke on his backside. Yelping, he whirled around, sloshing water all over his boots. Clenching his teeth, the gnome heard high-pitched laughter twittering in the trees above his head.

"Did you see that, Bosco? Did you? Damnable sprites are everywhere." Marching to his front door, which was wide open to the cool breeze, the gnome grabbed a couple old mason jars from a box of junk he kept at hand and with a toothy grin, slipped them under his arm. "Bosco? Are you going to lie there all day? Lazy poot." Frustrated, the gnome slammed the door shut. Cracking an eye open the hedgehog yawned again and curled up into a ball, snoring with a contented whistle.

Upon returning to the yard, the gnome skirted the sleeping pet with a grumble and a sniff, set the mason jars on his grandpappy's old stone bench which sat under his grandma's apple tree, placed a piece of fresh honeycomb in each jar, and attached fishing wire on the bottom of each jar with tape. Then scanning the yard, he stepped behind a blushing begonia to wait for his targets. "Let's see if those pesky pixies take the bait. Hehehe."

It wasn't long before a couple young pixie bucks sniffed out the honeycomb and began to bicker over it, their high-pitched screams caused the neighborhood dogs to yip and howl in response. "Now!" the gnome thought to himself. With a quick jerk of the fishing wire the pixies were trapped. Laughing and pumping his fist in the air, the gnome gathered up the jar and gave it a good shake.

"Ha!" the gnome chortled. "I'm pretty sure you're gonna love the goblin's garden because that's where I'm sending you, first class over the fence. Oh, that's right. He doesn't have a garden, but I'm sure he'll welcome you for breakfast. Right, Boscoe? Boscoe? Lazy poot."