I never liked it . They were a stiff-necked , extravagant set of idols , the Old Things . But what was the result ? Men do n't like being sacrificed at the best of times ; they do n't even like sacrificing their farm-horses . After a while , men simply left the Old Things alone , and the roofs of their temples fell in , and the Old Things had to scuttle out and pick up a living as they could . Some of them took to hanging about trees , and hiding in graves and groaning o ' nights . If they groaned loud enough and long enough they might frighten a poor countryman into sacrificing a hen , or leaving a pound of butter for them . I remember one Goddess called Belisama . She became a common wet water-spirit somewhere in Lancashire . And there were hundreds of other friends of mine . First they were Gods . Then they were People of the Hills , and then they flitted to other places because they could n't get on with the English for one reason or another . There was only one Old Thing , I remember , who honestly worked for his living after he came down in the world . He was called Weland , and he was a smith to some Gods . I 've forgotten their names , but he used to make them swords and spears . I think he claimed kin with Thor of the Scandinavians . ' ' Heroes of Asgard Thor ? ' said Una . She had been reading the book . ` Perhaps , ' answered Puck .
` None the less , when bad times XXXXX , he did n't beg or steal .
answered became came fell groaned pick reading said think worked