Most children are mischievious, in one way or another, but the boy in this book hatches a plan like no other, and invites some friends for dinner.

Off in the distance, he heard the thunder of hoofbeats, signalling a stampede.

Hard was his fate in this I own, / Nor will I for the trapes atone; / Indeed to guess I am not able, / What made her thus inexorable […]

Before thee stalks inexorable Fate, And grasps impailing nails and wedges dread, The hook tormentous and the melted lead.