Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Chapter I
 Chapter II
 Chapter III
 Chapter IV
 Chapter V
 Chapter VI
 Chapter VII
 Chapter VIII
 Chapter IX
 Chapter X
 Back Cover

Title: Fireside fairies, or, Christmas at Aunt Elsie's
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00001711/00001
 Material Information
Title: Fireside fairies, or, Christmas at Aunt Elsie's
Series Title: Fireside fairies, or, Christmas at Aunt Elsie's
Physical Description: Book
Language: English
Creator: Pindar, Susan
Publisher: D. Appleton and Company
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: 1850
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00001711
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: ltqf - AAA1761
ltuf - ALH6515
oclc - 13131792
alephbibnum - 002236046

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Title Page
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
    Table of Contents
        Page 7
        Page 8
    Chapter I
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 32a
        Page 33
        Page 34
    Chapter II
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 42a
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
    Chapter III
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
    Chapter IV
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
    Chapter V
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
    Chapter VI
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
    Chapter VII
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
    Chapter VIII
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 182a
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
    Chapter IX
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
    Chapter X
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
        Page 215
    Back Cover
        Page 216
        Page 217
Full Text






Entrd, according to Act of Congres, in the year 1849, by
In the Clark's Offi of the District Court of the United States for the
Southern District of New-York.



HOME truths in strange dresses" would, perhaps,
be an appropriate title for this unobtrusive volume, t
which, it is hoped will meet the approbation of the
"little people" for whom it is expressly designed.
There exists, in the minds of some parents, a
strong and reasonable prejudice against Fairy Tales
for children; as the extravagant imagery and im-
probable incidents, in which they generally abound,
often mislead or bewilder the youthful imagination.
3ut it is hoped this little book may escape such
The mind of a child is easily impressible thrae
the medium of fancy; and this humble attempt to
deck familiar, yet important truths, and the home
duties of every-day life, in the drapery of fairy land,


may, perhaps, serve to awaken a reasoning thought,
leading ultimately to an active principle.
If so, the mission of this little volume is fulfilled
It is too humble to provoke criticism; and only seeks
a welcome from those earthly "Fireside Fairies,"
whose instruction and entertainment have been its
highest aim.



Tux TWo Voicis, oit mz SBauoow A" SEADOWLI 18
Tnu Mnmn Fnlis 40
Tuz LILY FAny AxD THm SBiLvn Bun 108
naa WonzimE WATC. 128
Tn RED AxD WEITE RoIn7ti . . 147
*T'nfDu xoND Fomrtuxi .. 178
Tna MAGICAL K .. .. 189
COnc NCUSMN. .00

Pu--Y1.-C -~



YEs, they had come at last; the merry Christmas
holidays and little hearts were beating high, and
Bright eyes growing brighter, in anticipation of enjoy-
S enu to come,-of many days free from the wearisome
Tondage of tasks, and recitations,--a perfect vista of
light and happiness.
Christmas Holidays! magical words! the syllables
chime together like the tinkle of a merry sleigh-bell,
and the very letters seem the types of fun and
And they had actually arrived;-of that you might
have assured yourself, had you peeped into Aunt
Elsie's large old-fashioned parlor, and seen the merry
group assembled there around the great open fireplace,
in which a huge Christmas log (so big that it seemed


miraculous how it was ever carried and deposited
there) was blazing, with a steady flame, whiluthe
younger and smaller branches went crackling, and
shooting up their slender spears of light, and alto-
gether casting a ruddy glow throughout the room,
illumineng the happy faces grouped therein.
Every few moments a chestnut, bursting with-im-
patience from its bed among the embers, would pop
out on the broad hearthstone, and then such jupp-
g and scrabbling ensued, with shouts of merry
laughter, as was delightful to witness, and which Aunt
Elsie seemed heartily to enjoy.
Never was there such a place to spend the holi-
dayss as at Aunt Elsie's, nor such a priestess to pre-
side over the festivities as Aunt Elsie herself. She
was a widow, and childless, her children having at
died in infancy, and her warm love seemed ever over-
flowing towards all created things; but more espe-
cially went it forth to the "little people," as she
loved to call the groups of children that clustered
about her.
She was aunt to every child for miles around, and
never was the tie of relationship stronger than the
bond of love that united Aunt Elsie to her protege.
All their tales of troubles were poured into her sye
pathizing ear, with the certainty of receiving good
advice and real assistance. Every project for a frolic


wa confided to her, sure to be encouraged if hum-
le, or dissuaded from if miseivens or hurtful
But while all obefent children were favorites,
more especially did the orphans or*destitute interest
her love; and for these she had more substantial be-
nefif in store than the distribution of ho y gifts or ,
other kindnesses shared with the happy and fortunate
S children of kind parents. Many little friendless ones
owed their instruction and the means ofEhonorable
Support to Aunt Elsie'sbenevolence; and it was pf
sant to see how1'any young people, gown to m
rity, used to visit her, for her ever judicious and Lind
counsel; and were proud to acknowledge her as Jeir
first and truest friend. .
An invitation to Aunt,Elsie's to sptnd the holi-
#days, was a reward eagerly sought for and highly
prized; none were asked whose conduct during the
V year had not been marked with some sign of improve-
Sment; and no other incentive was necessary to awaken
Sthe most strenuous endeavors.
Dear good Aunt Elsie I no wonder the children
loved to visit her: such piles of dough-nuts and krol-
lers, such baskets of apples and bags -of nuts were
1 provided for their entertainment I to say nothing of
#he mince pie and little cranberry tarts, with the ini-
tial of each nime cut from the crust and baked on the
top, or the delicious plum pudding, of which they


were awed to partake in moderation on Christmas
Day, after they hd dne ample justice to the enor-
mous turkey, fatted on purpose, and whose immense
S alk was the wonderment of young eyes.
But good cheer was not the only pleasure to be
enjoyed. lunt Elsie was not troubled with nervous
headaches; she liked the little folks to enjoy themselves
S in their own way, but without rudeness, and the loud-
est laugh and merriest shout never called forth a re-
primand. Thre was a fine hoping bill at the back
e house, down which the sleds hn famously, and I
a latge pbnd at the side for skating. Then, for in-
door amuseents, there was a great upper room, newly
the hole width ?f the house, containing a swing and
a hammock,4brmerly belonging to Aunt Elsie's bro-
ther; and every one was at liberty to bring what they
pleased to contribute to the general enjoyment. In
the evening they all congregated in the parlor, an
never was there a parlor better suited for the purpose
than Aunt Elsie's.
It was a large room, as I have said, with rather a
low ceiling, and four windows (for it was a corner
room~), well protected from the cold and storm by
thick.wooden shutters; and if a prying gust should *
insinuate itself betwgen the chinks, it s prevented
entering the apartment by the heavy cunains of crim-
son moreen *t fell in great folds to the floor, and


behind whose ruddy screen the chilly little twas
soon converted into a genial atosphere.
What fine places the thick Ada of thod curtains
were for pinning handkeihiefs in tie game of "hoe
buttered blue beans;" and the deep window seats
made convenient hiding-places in the glp f hide
and go seek." And though there were plenty of lgh:
S backed walnut chairs with stuffed seats, Ad low otto-
mans with faded embroidered covers, and two old-
Sfashioned couches, thererwas still eneu of room for
a game of blindlian's buff," without risk of' bla 4
* eye or bruised ankle against obtrusive furniture.
There was an antique piao, quite tunable enough
for a country-dance or Virinia reel, md not 'uf-
' Sciently goot to be ruined by indifferent& performers.
.Then thWe were small work-stands, and a large centre '
table, covered with amusing and instructive gamin
d pictures, and all sorts of materials for fancy
'tting an embroideries; besides, a large and well-
flled bookcase, for those who preferred a quiet enjpy-
S ment. The ialls were hung with portraits of Aunt
Elsie's family: shepherdesses in hoops and fardingales, 4
and demure gentlemen in powdered hair and knee-
buckles, all smiling benignly on the merry group be-
dl0th them, while they seemed to flourish in a green
old age, bel completely embowered in Christmr
greens, with which the frames were wtthed. The

4 V


hih &a jars on the mantelpiece were filled with
bunches of laurel,bofand cedar, intermixed with the
right bel s of the mountain ash and winter-green,
tnd graceful festoons adornld the doorway and win-
dows. What a cheerful friendly room it was, to be
sure I of d4I lace to pass the Christmas holidays,
contend nm to Aunt Elsie's, at Woodleigh.
SNever was there a hppier party of children than
those now assembled in that cozy,eld-faehioned parlor.
* There was little Norah Graham and her brother Wil-
lie, and Lucy and Mary Parker, fine intelligent girls
of ten and twelve; and Harry Wilder, with his bro-
ther George, and cousin Grace and Clara; besides
the orphans, Frank Field and his sweet sister, Lilias;
little pet Lily, the darling of Aunt Elsi, and the de
Slight of all. There was Bertha Carrol, the tauntess,
qp her companions.called.her, a stately girl just enter-
ing her fifteenth year, and her two younger brother$
Charles and Ernest, frank, joyoas-hearted %bys. TheL,
with the gentle sisters Jessie and May Lester, com-
S pleted the group, who were spending their holidays
entirely at Aunt Elsie's.
Other visitors there were in plenty, but they spent
a day or evening only with them, having other engee-
ments to fulfil. As I have said that nA but g .I
clldren were invited to Aunt Elsie's, t course all
the member-f the party deserved this commenda-


tion; but each one possessed different traits a *
ter, which were constantly elic~ed by the close ao-
ciation with others, as sparks are brought by tio
contact of flint and steel.' They hai thdr faults to t
but perhaps the certainty that a dismissal from Aunt
Elsie's festivities would immediately folH every a-
grant act of bad behavior, acted as a rstraintand
S kept them pleasantly united. Aunt Elsie sat in her
high-backed chair, at the corner of the fireplace, knit-
ting away, occasionally offering some paggestions as
to the games in progress, and smiling kindly on all;
giving sly hints as to the best places for hiding the .
t handkerchief, and taking a lively interest in the sports .<
about her.
What are you poring over there?" asked Clara
Wilder of her cousin George, as she stopped to gains
S breath after a hearty game of blindman's buff, asq
king over his shoulder as she spoke.
It is a fairy boo*h and I have just finished it,"
She answered, closing it as he spoke. "I do love fairy
stories better than any thing in the world; when I
get a library it shall be filled with them."
Before you get a library you will have lost your
Relish for fairy tales," said Lucy Parker, laughing;
"jtt they ai delightful, I don't think I shall every
tire of the Aabian Nights."
' Nor II nor I!" oried half a doseVoices.


_1 _Y q _

_Y_~_ LLI


you remember the voyages of Bdbad, the
sailor," asked Charles Carrol; "I like those the

Not bettr than the story about the magic horse,
all made of ebony and ivory, that could fly all over,"
chimed in little Lily.
They are all beautiful," said Jessie Lester; and
forthwith the little grpup clustered together and
began discussing the merits of their favorite tales,
foreach seemed to have learned the Thousand and
S one Nights by heart.
S "Heigho II wish fairies were in fashion yet," ex-
claimed Harry Wilder; "nothing wonderful ever
happens now-a-days; only think how delightful it
would be to have a wishing cap, by which one could
qet all he desired."
Or to have guardian fairies," said May Lester,
"to prompt you to do right always."
"Every one has a guardian fairy of that kind,*I
think," said Aunt Elsie.
"A guardian fairy !" exclaimed many voices.
I know what Aunt Elsie means, it is conscience,"
said May.
"There is a beautiful Eastern legend," said Aunt
Elsie, which runs thus:" '
"Every man has two attendant angels, one on
either shoulder. Whenever he does a good action


the angel on the right records and seals i *
a thing once well done is finished for ever. Th *
commits an evil deed, the ang4 on his l tes i4
down also, but he does not seal it4 ad if before
midnight the offender cries, 'Allah forgive me I' the
angel drops a tear of joy upon the words and efface
"What a lovely story," cried the children.
"I have often felt," said Mary Parker, "as if a
voice whispered me when to do right"
"Yes; and when I commit a great fault, that
voice seems to speak to me in tones like thunder,"
replied Ernest. I
"Yet this is only the still small voice of con-
Sscience, mt urging in your heart," answered Aunt
Elsie. "How wonderful is the power that spirit *
S voice possesses; and how humbly should we listen t
its lightest tone I It is indeed monitor that should
PIh ie'er be disregarded. And now, my dear children,
since you are in the humor for fairy tales, I will, if
you choose, read one out of an old manuscript, which
tas for many years been stored awaj in my bookase.
I cannot promise it will be as delightful as the Arabian
Nights, but it has, at least, a moral which I will
leave to your ingeno to discover."
A general burst of delight followed this proposal, *
and the elder girls, taking up their knitting, sated

'9 -hh


es at the table, while the boys lthered in a
'eod r, and the little children, hugging up their dolls
in'their Ims, drew teir chairs to the fire. Aunt
Elsie, in themeantime took from the upper shelf of
her bookcase an old portfolio, and selecting one from
the numerous manuscripts it contained, deliberately
put on her glasses, and read the storpof

90 CMn VnirW:


In a certain small village, there lived% very poor
Man, a basket-maker, named Hans. He lived quite
alone in a mean little hut, which was-his only in-
heritance. He had ao wife nor children to comfort
him, for he was too poor tb marry, and he had for
many years supported jiis infirm and bed-ridden
mother. She was now dead, and though Hans was
no longer obliged to toil forher support, yet h
missed her very much, and felt miserably lo4,
working day after day, without a soul to speak to,
unless by chance a strangling ler should stop at
the door to exchange- with him. But his
mother had taught himre be industrious, and con-

nI~RDSI rufAII I 19

tented,4o I worked steadily on, though he. y
earned enough to keep the wolf from the do o ,
Hans might hvre grown ol4 and gray ip e hidst
of &ia humble labors, without indulging any vain
longings for a better condition, if he had not had the
misfortune to see the miller's pretty daughter, who
smiled kindly on him, and so set him to thinking how
Iappylbe should be, if he had but ber bright eyes
and pleasant voice to oheer his lonely htme.. But
Hans knew full well that he could hardly support
himself, and what then could he do with a wife So
he was obliged to see the miller's daughter walk to*
church *th rich htrmerfrenck, while he had to keeln
indoors on account of lis raggedoa t. This state of
Sthigs madl poqr Hans very unhappy.
S "I am as comely and young as farmer Trenok,"*
said he to himself, "and if I only had money, there
is no telling what might happen." Then he fell to
Thinking how he should obtain the gold he so much
coveted; anathese thoughtaJept him awake at night
when le should hive been sleeping, and made him
Ssit, idly twisting the ashes through the day, when
'* naght to have been working.
ft so happened one day when Hans went out to
out some rushes f0s buskets, that as he stooped
down, with his knife iL nd, he saw a leather d
. w :"allet lying among the teWr He dipped hi knife
4 0+


and sed the wallet. It was very hea#, and as he
turned it over in his hand, a bright gold piece rolled
out upon his palm. Hans felt a% if his heart had
stopped beating. He rubbed his eyes to be surehe
was not dreaming, and then looked round to see if
any one was near. But nobody was in sight, and
Hans, sitting down on a green bank, counted out the
bright gold pieces, one by one, and then dropped#
them again into the leather bag, thinking all the
Z time that the chink of the precious metal was the
sweetest music he had ever heard.
S There #ere ninety-one gold pieces in the wallet,
and as Hans, after satisfying himself twegy times
by counting themcver and over, finally tied the
string tightly about the bag, he heard a delicate
little voice close to his ear say:
"What are you going to do witk the money,
Poor Hans started up in affright, for he thought.
that some one had been watching him all the time.
He looked all around but could see nothing, when
again the voice repeated:
What are you going to do with4he money, HaOM
it is not yours."
Again Hans looked out W, and now he saw,
seated on his right a mall but beautiful
creature, with silver wllnd bearing a star on its


forehead, Ach oast a bright radiance all &a d.
Before he could recover from his surprise, so as to
reply toahe question the tiny Agure had twioe asked,
another voice, very unlike theAst, and. sounding' as
if it came through a brazen tube, answered for him:
Hans will keep the money, to be sure; he found
it, and it is his."
"He has no right to keep what belongs to an-
other," answered the silver voice.
"How does he know the real owner i said the
brazen voice; "whoever dropped it considers it lost.
Hans is a poor man, and this is a piepe oP 1ood luk
which hb oou~tst to throw away."
While this dialogue was going on, Hans, looking
towards his ft shoulder, beheld a small dark form,
enveloped in a sort of dazzling haze that prevented
him from seerg its outline with distinctness. This
Swas not a silvery, light, such as emanated from the
S spirit of the silver voice, but a sort of lurid glare,
like the refection from iolten copper. Yet there
wassomething strangely fascinating in its brightness,
which tempted one to look again. Hans at last mus-
lsdl oosage to speak:
"Who are ye both, that thus dispute about my
aiurs?' heasked. 4
I am tde voice of less; whoso follow-
eth my advice shall never mit' in or know de-


spair;" answered the star-crowned figure on his right
"And men call me the voice of the Shadow,"
replied the brazen tAe, with a harsh laugh; "whoso
followeth me, shall have riches in plenty, and a life
Sof joy."
Hans cast down his eyps in thought, and there,
on the greensward, rested the shadow of the brazen
one, a dark, unshapely thing, portraying his true
form divested of the dazzling glare that surrounded
it, and twice the size of the figure itself Hans
i rted and trembled. There was no shadow near
the figure on his right, but a soft light #e a.reflected
moonbeam lay shimmering on the grass, the reflection
of her silver wings.
U Pooh, pooh, man, never be afraid of a shadow,"
said the brazen tone, jeeringly; "that is the best
proof you can have that I am a re#l, tangible being,
and ready to serve you. The words of the Shadow-
less are all very well for hdinary oocasions, but at a
time like this listen to me." 0
What shall I do with the wallet I" asked Hans;
"I don't want to keep it, if it is dishonest I oold
not bear to be a thief"
NAer call you r hard sames," answered the
brazen tone. "MLe' 6iding, and" of stealing,
are two very dil antn The facts ae these:



Somebody loses a purse-you are fortunate enough
to fnd it; therefore it is yotr own, of course, to do
with as you like."
"Not so," interrupted the hadowless. "The
money must have a proper owner; it is. the duty of
Hans to discover him, if possible, and restore it to
him; that is what he wui do, as an honest man." *
Hans winced at these words; and the Shadow,
seeming to perceive that he had gone too far, replied,
Well, there is, at least, no harm in Hans taking
the wallet home with him, and thinking it over a
while; it will be much safer in his chest than lying
out here in th4 reeds."
This suggestion pleased Hans; but tli Shadow-
less spoke:
Do not listen to the tempter, Hans, but take the
money at once to the justice, and tell him all about
it. If once within your grasp, you know not to what
you may bd Monpled-perhaps even to steal."
Hans wu offended at this implied doubt of his
stre th; so he said, angrily, "Do you think me a
child, that I cannot be trusted 9 I choose to take the
wallet with me, and I will."
Hans I Hans I" murmured the silver voice, im-
ploringly, "drive me not ou, by wi* obsti-
nacy; know me as yoi and trust me,
all will ie well at the W

*e T ^
rlC ^r .'



A pang went through the heart of Hans at these
words; and he was just about yielding, when the
Shadow interposed.
How childish your fears are," he said. What I
afraid to trust yourself one night with a little bag of
gold? I thought you were more of a man. Suppose
*you had not found the wallet to-day, it would have
laid among the reeds all night. Is it not, in reality,
much safer with you? you can carry it to the justice
These specious words decided Hans, and the soft,
imploring voice of the Shadowless was no longer
heeded. He arose, and went towards his home, at-
tended by the voice of the Shadow, who kept sound-
ing in his ear the praises of his manliness and
Hans observed that the shadow on the green-
sward was larger than before, and he thought it
obscured the sunlight; but the *vo ,' of flattery
sounded sweet in his eab ant the lurid light hover-
ing on his shoulder dasled him; and so he.went
on, not heeding that the shimmering light had gone
from his. pathway, and that the star-rowned form sat
drooping, dimmed, and silent.
Wben Hans ar' *at his cottage he carefully
barred the dota'- on he had never before
thought of us ; l once more read the

"I a


glittering pieces out upon the board before him, and
counted them, one by one. *
There are just ninety-one pieces," suggested the
Shadow; "one piece would buy a new coat; don't
you think you deserve something for finding the wal-
let, Hans ?"
Hans listened, but said nothing: he was thinking
that if he had a ndw coat, he might walk to chtroh
with the miller's pretty daughter; but the people
would wonder where he got a new coat. It seemed
as if the Shadow knew his thoughts, for it went on:
You might go to the town, you know, and per-
haps there might be something owing youk-who
knows? The coat is bought with money owed to
you, eh, Hans? And then, on Sunday, when farmer
Trenck comes along, he will havedo stand one side;-
and look, now, there comes the miller's pretty daugh-
ter !"
Ians looked up, and there she went, sure enough,
looking more blooming than ever.
You can replace the piece when you earn it, and
restore the wallet then; no one knows when you
found it," said the Shadow.
Hans sighed heavily; then he took up the bright
pieces and dropped them in the bag, all save one;
tlat he left upon the tablDt .
"Thou shalt not s uikred the silver
3 fL b

'I ^f&^~I


voice, but now the tone was faint as a dying echo;
Sand the brazen tone drowned it at once with a loud
laugh, and the inquiry,
Who talks of stealing Hans borrows the piece
awhile, and hurts no one by it."
It was now dark, and Hans threw himself on the
bed, after carefully locking up the bag in hischcst,
and hiding the one piece beneth his pillow. His
sleep was restless and disturbed; and early the
next morning, unrefreshed, but determined, and not
daring to question himself, he arose, took the gold
piece, and hastened away to the adjoining town.
Itpeemed to Hans that a dark pall was thrown
over every thing, and the shadow that was flung on
the ground at his side increased as he went; but the
voice of the Shadow never ceased urging him on, and
the Shadowless was silent and dim.
The tailor, who knew Hans well, looked surprised
when Hans offered the piece of gold, but he believed
him when he said it was money long owed him; and
having fitted him a handsome coat, with bright but-
tons, handsomer even than farmer Trenck's, Hans,
with his purchase, turned towards his home.
The morrow was Sunday, and the voice of the
Shadow whispered of triumph in the new coat;
but, despite all he O tly, the dark pall seemed
thrown over all MtngqW he fearful shadow on the



grass increased fearfully, while ever and anon the sil-
ver voice of the Shadowless murmured, Hans, art *
thou doing well ?" until at last, in an almost agony, he
reached his home, and, not daring to look at his new
coat, he threw himself on his bench. The rushes lay
scattered about him, and a basket, unfinished, was
near; but work he could not; a gloom filled the cot-
tage, and the dark shadow lay crouched at his feet.
Thus the day wore on nnheeted by Hans, who,
alternately listening to the brazen tone, with some-
thing akii to confidence, and oppressed by the spell
that bound him, sat listlessly twisting the rushes be-
tween his fingers, when a neighbor suddenlystopped
at the door, and cried:
"Hast heard the news, Hans ? the miller was
robbed the night before last, when coming from
market; he was knocked down and his wallet taken
from him, before his two men came up; the robbers
fled, and he has posted a reward for the thief. It
was a great loss, of a certainty; ninety-one heavy
pieces; a fortune for a poor man, Hans."
Hans sat motionless, and the neighbor supposing
him busy, and unwilling to gossip, passed on. Hour
after hour wore away, and Hans sat gazing on the
wall, when the voice of the Shadow roused him:
Come, Hans, be a man,'" confidently; "it is all
or nothing now; no one Wi ver aspectt you of hav-

4rnL 46


ing the money. .If the robber is caught, so much
the better. I suppose he flung the wallet aside, for
fear of detection, meaning to return for it again. It
is a lucky chance, that an honest man like yourself
found it. The miller is rich; and by and by, when
you improve in appearances, and open a shop for your-
self, you will marry the miller's pretty daughter, and
thus, you see, it will all be restored to him fourfold.
Chefr up; I will Aow you some of the things that
will be. Look before you."
Hans looked up, and there, on the whitewashed
wall, beheld what appeared to be three compartments,
like picture frames, in the first of which, seen only by
the lurid darling glare which the Shadow cast upon
it, was a group of figures. Hans looked earnestly,
and recognized himself in the handsome new coat,
supporting on his arm the miller's pretty daughter
who smiled upon him, while the old father looked on
approvingly, and rich farmer Trenck walked sullenly
Hans' heart beat high, and turning to the second,
he saw a church and a bridal party; and the groom
* and bride were himself and the miller's daughter.
now his very heart stood still with ecstasy.
Still he looked on the third, and there, in a lofty
room, rich with carved eouldings, and costly furni-
ture, he beheld a matron' surrounded by blooming


children, and despite the cap and additional years, he
knew the beautiful face of theSille.1 daughter.
Seated at the table, at the other sidof the room, ap-
peared the figure of himself, looking as if years had
passed lightly over him. He was dressed in the
robes of a justice, and appeared writing. Hans shud-
dered; the scene recalled the present too vividly, and
the Shadow hastened to throw so dazzling a light
over the picture, as to blind him.to its aplication.
When suddenly the voice of the Shadowfesq.. ,
this time loudly and distinctly:
Look once more, Hans."
And Hans did look, and now the lurid glare was
gone, and seen in the silvery light of the star of the
Shadowless, he beheld himself pale, Iaggard, and
fearful, with the miller's daughter on his arm, while
before him went the fearful Shadow, larger, more fear-
ful than ever. '
He trembled.
At the second picture the bridal party was indeed
there, but a black pall enveloped every thing, and
the fearful Shadow filled the church with its hideous
At the third he saw himself, and all the group
about him, completely enveloped in its fearful gloom;
the countenance of the miller's daughter was worn
and faded, and for himself, seen in that silver light


of truth, he scarcely recognized his own features, so
changed a had their expression become.
Hans cover his face.
You have now seen the visions of the false, by
the light of the true," said the Shadowless. Look
once more and behold the truth itself."
As she spoke, Hans looked up, and beheld the
former visions swept away; and there pictured be-
oAf bas th& judgment hall, and himself ar-
r f fore the bar, charged with the crime of
highway robbery, and evidently receiving sentewe of
S condemnation.
Hans bowed his head in agony.
"Oh, star-crowned Spirit, guide me, and keep me
from temptation!" he fervently ejaculated, and at
that word, the dark form vanished; the Shadow was
gone from before him, and in its place was the soft
clear shimmering light from the silver wings of the
) Hans looked up, it was early dawn; but the sun-
light seemed brighter to him, and a halo to rest upon
the hills. He arose, and, prompted by the bright
form that no longer rested upon his shoulder, but now
nestled in his bosom, he took the new coat from its
hiding-place, and unlocking his chest, took out the
bag of gold. He shuddered when he touched it, and
involuntarily looked about him, fearing again to meet

Lake Superior, 400 W., 68 .
m. in . ..
)5 N., &coea
Rainy Lae, 40 m. neeted with L.
Ln .i ...... Superior.
L. of the Woods, N. W.
100 m. in. i. *
L Sal, 100m. in1. 42 8
Cat Lake, 60 m.42, and nextN.
inL .. . ofLSal.
Winaipeg Lake,800 41 F.
m. m 1. . ..
Lake Manitoba, 418.
S41,andnext N.
Little Winnipeg, W. of L. Mani.
Buffalo Lake. . 41 W.
Deer Lake,. . 41 M.
) 41, and next N.
Wollaston Lake, a of Deer L.
Indian Lake. . 41 N. E.
North Lined L., 28.E.
Y Kyed L. 2, an.next N.
Yath Kyed L.,. of N. Lined L.

mDoobaut 25dam tW.
Great Ber L., 0 0
m. in 1. -- ,
Great Slave L., 800 4 S. W.
m. in 1. . .
Athabasca Lke, 40 N. I.
200 m. in 1.. .
Little Slave L., .40 W.
Lake Shelekhof, N. W.
North Lake. . 389.. B.
South ike, 50N.B.
Flat Bow Lake, 50 N. E., 1
N. W.
Kulluspelm L... 51 N. W.
51, and aeMAI
Flt Head Lake, of Kullupelm
Great Salt Lake, 61 8.
Tulet Lakes. B. of M.
Lake Cayman', 69 N.
Lake Chapala, 69 8.
Lake Nicara'gua.. 78 W.

ATu-BMNSu' im

Now the Lakes our verse demand
Which like inland seas expand
In dimensions vast and grand,
In North America.
First we mention Richmond Lake,
Not for size but order's sake,
Seal Lake next, and then we take
Caniapuscaw shall lead,
Nitcheguont shall next succeed,
(Names unft for verse indeed,)
Then Copim'eseaw.
Mistisin'ny now we note,
Not from Hudson's Bay remote,
Then Lake Abbitib'be quote,
Then Temis'caming.
Ontario, Erie are surveyed,
Twixt than is the grand cascade;
And mirror-like, St Clair's displayed,
Shini brilliantly.
*Or Chelkhoa. t

Net or notice shall be beat
To ke Husn's vast extnt.
Nuberous bays its shores indent,
Shape irregular.
Manitoolina next we call,
Michin by no means small,
And t rg of them all,
Lab Superior.
Now to Rainy ak e go
Then Lake Woods poceed to showr
At a glance Lake Sal we know,
Cat and Winnipeg.
Now lake Naitoa clear,
And Little Wianipeg appear.
Then Lakes Bio and Deer,
.Apking merrily.
Next inm ol us take
WoUMiunti m iaiLpa
ot|. 4 Miwb.,gsm.L
W!**Y" 4 *s~s' i,
YdL~~;Ol,?d *


'T1'~~ ~:--~T~:1~:

Mwe s-teO.



And there, t- thaustice came in his robes
to hear .t~b the miller appeared and told
his, a ,ry, "the men showed the knifArhich they
swW' belongf -to Hans; then Hans'himself
stood up, and placing the bag of gold upon the
Stable before him, told how he had found it, and
iad been tempted by the Shadow; and as he went
:un, and. cribed the vision he had pen, and so
i e is love for the miller's pretty daughfbr,
S a R I the Shadowless had shown him
allin things in their true light:-as he spoke,
the silver'wins of the star-crowned spirit in his
bosom shone Th'new lustre, and the clear'soft light
spread until it filled the council chamber, and so fqll
upon his countenance like a glory. -
S I t penetrated the breasts of all who heard him;
? the' wing of the Shadowless fanned their hearts,-
and with one loud voice they acquitted him with
-And more than this; the miller himself took him
home that day, and j the new coat which tailor
had fitted, and whichthe miller paid for, Han walked
to church beside the miller's daughter.
Not many Sundays after, a bridal was celebrated
in the little church. No dark Shadow was there,
but instead, the clear, sofHver light from the
wing of the Shadowless, loadrlike incense around


O m; and when years had passed, and Hans the
miller was, with his wife and children, called the hap-
piest family in all the town, it was the same silver
spirit-light that brightened and glorified their dwelling,
because the star-crowned Shadowless now made her
abiding place in the heart of each, and to her they
had dedicated the fireside altar of their home.

Aunt Elsie paused.
"It was the Spirit of Truth I" burst forth little
Norah Graham.
"And the Shadow of Temptation," said Grace.
"Dear Aunt Elsie, how I thank you for your story."
So do we all," cried every voice, now thoroughly
aroused from the absorbing interest each had felt.
"Whenever I am tempted to do wrong, I shall
think of the voice of the Shadow," said George.
I fancy I can see the fearful dark thing increase
ing at every step," said Frank, thoughtfully.
That means the consciousness of sin, that always
accompanies a wrong act, I think," said Jessie, ear-
"How the beautiful or-crowned spirit brought
every thing right at last," remarked Bertha.


She was patient, and long enduring," answer*
May Lester, the very spirit of loving truth."
And thus each had a comment upon the story,
which, although possessing none of the attributes of
their favorite Arabian Nights, pleased and interested
Them, while little Lily wound up the criticism by -
clapping her hands and exclaiming:
* And so he got the new coat, with bght buttons,
and married the miller's pretty daughter at last, and
was as happy as happy could be, after all I Oh, Aunt
Elsie, I will always mind the Spirit of Truth.'"
I trust you will, my love, and that each may
profit by my little story," said Aunt Elsie, smiling on
the little girl. And now, here comes Dinah with
he supper tray; and after supper, and a game of
omps, it will be time to think about bed."



THE next day was stormy and disagreeable, and after
spending the morning in various sports in the large *
upper room devoted to their use, the children all as-
sembled in the parlor. It was just twilight; the snow
fell fast and furious without, and drifted and blw
against the window panes as if anxious to get a peep
within. The fire blazed up merrily, lighting the room
in fitful spells; the little girls were clustered together,
deep in the mysteries of a doll's wedding that was to
take place the next morning with great pomp and
Warade. The minister and groom were being dressed
by the larger girls, while the little ones thought
themselves very useful in making nondescript article
for each.
The boys stood by the windows, watching the snow
flakes and projecting the building of a great sled,
large enough to accommodate the whole party.
There was a great deal of talking and arguing


between the members of each group, and presently
little Lily'i voice rose in tones of expostulation.
"Now Mary, if that is not too bad; you promised,
you know you did, that my new dolly should be the
bride, and now you won't let her even come to the
"But Norah's doll is already dressed in white
.muslin, and yours is not dressed at all answered
Bertha Carrol, "and we have not time, you know, to
dress it now."
"She shall come to the wedding though, even if
she is not handsomely dressed," replied Jessie Lester.
"I will lend her a dress of my doll's; we will manage
to make it fit."
"No," cried little Lily, angrily, while tears stood
in her eyes, "no: if she can't come dressed like a
lady, she shan't come at all; it is all Mary's fault,
and she knows it too, for she promised and promised
to dress her, ever so many days ago. Grace offered
to do it, when I first got her; but Mary said she
should like so to dress her for me, that I promised
she might. I kept my word, but she has broken hers,
and I will never, never believe her again."
Little Lily now fairly burst into tears, while some
laughed at her childish grief and Grace tried to com-
fort her; while Mary coaxed her, saying she would
dress it magnificently yet, and no matter if she was



# t ready this thie; they would have another we-
But Lily still declared she would lt believe a
word she said, and spoke so vehemently, that Aunt
Elsie, entering the room, came and inquired the cause
of the trouble. Mary Parker, who felt that she had
done wrong, frankly told the cause of little Lilj's
disappointmqpt and tears, and offered to do all in her
power to retrieve it.
Aunt Elsie looked grave.
The matter is in itself a mere trifle," she said,
"but you should be careful never to pumise any
thing to a child unless you perform it. By allowing
a little child to see the promises of others so lightly
regarded, awakens distrust, and teaches them not
only to place no value on promises, but at last to be
regardless of truth itself. If you knew you could
not dress the doll, Mary, why did you not let Grace
do so "
"I intended dressing it immediately," said Mary,
blushing, "but I put it off, thinking that I could do
it any time. I am very sorry that I had not done
it at once, for I cannot bear to see Lily disap-
"Never mind, Mary, don't be sorry," spoke little
Lily, who was very sorry herself, to hear Aunt Elsie
speak reprovingly to Mary, whom, after all, she dearly


lojed. "I shan't cry any more," shb said, looking up-
with a sunny smile.
Aunt Elie kissed the little rosebud mouth thus
upturned, while she said to Mary, smiling:
"Any time is no time, too often, my aear child;
and now suppose you all set to work, cannot the doll
be.dressed this evening? I dare say you are all
willing to assist, as this is quite a momentous occa-
* sion, and I am afraid the poor dolly would be broken-
hearted, 'thus to be deserted, when she expected to
be the bride."
The children laughed, and readily promised to
help, when Mary said:
But I have nothing prepared to make her dress;
it ought to be very handsome."
"Well, well," said Aunt Elsie, kindly, "I will
bring out my box of treasures after tea, and you can
select something pretty enough, I dare say; and
then, when you are all busily engaged, perhaps I
may bring out the old portfolio and find another
This proposition was hailed with delight, the box
of treasures was in itself an almost inexhaustible
Source of pleasure to the girls. Such bundles of
scraps of rich brocades and delicate satins as it con-
tained, with any quantity of cast-off feathers, and
lowers, ribbons, ends of lace, beads, gold and silver

^-- r 1-


- cord, and spangles, enough to dress twenty dolls;
and from which Auit Elsie had occasionally drawn
forth some wished-for article of doll's apparel. Now,
to have this box st command was an unexpected de-
light, ant there seemed little chance of the story
gaining much attention from the girls. Tea was
over, and the boys around the large table were vari-
ously engaged, two or three in making a chess-board
and carving the men, little Frank Field holding yarn
while Ernest wound a huge ball, and one or two of
the others drawing. They each had their materials
arranged so as to occdion no interruption, and con-
stantly urged the girls to be silent. They, however,
were clustered about a work-stand, busily turning
over the contents of the treasure box, while exclama-
tions of admiration continually broke forth from the
group. There was a long and spirited debate as to the
material to be chosen, and the whole evening would
probably have been consumed in examining the trea-
sure box, had not Aunt Elsie joined them, and re-
minding them of their promise to dress the doll be-
fore bedtime, assisted their taste with her judgment;
and the proper materials having been chosen, the
treasure box was carefully put aside, and each one
having her part assigned her, set earnestly about it,
and begged Aunt Elsie to commence, as they could
work so much faster while she read to them.

w- .7


Little Lily placed the footstool and found the
spectacles, then seating herself at Aunt Elsie's feet,
laid her curly head upon the old lady's lap, who, hav-
ing comfortably settled herself ifr her high-backed
chair, and glanced around to see that all #ere in or-
der, selected another manuscript from the old port-
folio, and commenced reading what she called

S(At Vfintr fairits.

In a pretty little cottage, not, a thousand miles
perhaps from Betzendorf, there lived a lone widow
with her little daughter Enna. The widow was not
rich, she toiled from sunrise until sunset; and as
nnna grew from infancy into more helpful childhood,
her mother taught her to assist her in various ways.
When Enna first learned to hold the yarn which
her mother wound, and to gather twigs wherewith to
light their fire, she was delighted with her new occu-
pation; but as she became older, and had a will of
her own, she found it much pleasanter to saunter
through the green and shady lanes, or to lounge
dreamily on the sunny bank, than to keep within
doors studying her lesson, or performing the tasks
which her mother required of her.

.* .

To be idle, Enna thought was to behappy. No
matter what was to be done, she always put it off
until she felt more inclined to do it, and this time
never coming, her duties were necessarily hastily and
badly performed. One lovely summer's afternoon,
she went with her little bucket to draw water from
the spring, which was some distance from her mother's
house.' She sauntered idly along, and on reaching
the spring, put down her bucket, and throwing her-
self upon the grass, gazed listlessly on the bright wa-
ter that, issuing from the crevices of a rock, poured
itself into a kind of basiw that nature had scooped
out on purpose, and so came bubbling up like a foun-
tain, close to the little girl's feet. There were long
green branches covered with graceful quivering leaves,
trailing on the grass at her side, and wild flowers
scrambled over the rook and peeped timidly down
upon the face of the silver spring, sometimes ventur-
ing to cast a blossom-laden sprig upon its bosom; the
little birds twittered their good-night song to each
other from amid the thick branches, and the great
sun himself, just sinking to rest behind the distant
hills, sent a bright golden ray forth from his purple
canopy of clouds, to quiver on the surface of the
lovely spring fountain that had truthfully reflected
his own noonday glory.
It was a summer twilight, as lovely as twilight


could be, but Enna heeded none of the beauty about
her; she looked at the bucket, and then at the spring,
with a discontented air.
Oh dear, sh dear," at last cried the little girl,
"how I wish I was rich and had servants in plenty;
I hate to carry water and make the fire: how much
plemanter it is to be het. Oh, how I wish I had
nothing to do. I wish I was happy."
So saying, she sighed, and taking up the biuket,
bent over the spring, when lo and behold, she saw its
surface gently agitated, and far away down in its
depths she perceived whatteppeared to be a ball of
light arising to the surface. It cane slowly up, and
upon reaching the top, proved to be a large bubble
blight with all the hues of the rainbow. The bubble
rested a second on the water, then parted in the
centre, thus forming a crescent shape, while it
slowly sailed towards her.
As Enna looked on in mute surprise, she sawr
beautiful tiny female standing in the bubble that
seemed like a triumphal car. This little creature had
wings of the varied hues of a gorgeous butterfly, her
gossamer robes floated like silver mist about her, and
she held in her hand a slender silver wand. As she
drew near the bank, Enna saw that sheohad soft
smiling eyes and long shining bright hair, and that
she looked kindly upon her.


Presently the bubble floated amid a tuft of forget-
me-nots~hat grew close to the water's edge, and the
beautiful fairy spreading her graceful wings, alighted
close at Enna's side.
Enna was too childish and untutored to feel aught
but delighted surprise, at the presence of the lovely
little fairy, and so she said t
Who are you, little beauty, and from whence did
you come ?"
The fairy smiled at Enna's fearless questioning,
and replied in a voice soft and silvery as the rippling
of a brook on the white pebbles:
'UI am the Lady of the Spring, Enna. Have you
never heard that on a certain midsummer day, there
is one partic ar moment in which any wish that a
mortal makefihile looking on this fountain, shall be
fulfilled? You have. unknowingly chosen the very
moment to wish you were happy, and now I have
come to gOnt your wish."
"Are you really in earnest ? have you such pow-
er ?" asked Enfa, her eyes opening wide with aston-
ishment; and then assured by the kind smile of the
fairy, she exclaimed:
Oh, how delightful this is, and how happy I shall
be. I wish to be rich, to have servants, to ride in a
fine coach, and have nothing to do."
Not so fast," interrupted the Lady of the Spring;



you wished to be happy, but the way in which your
happiness is brought alWut, must rest with me. IHow-
ever, as there are certain conditions which you seem
6 to think essential, they must be attended to. You
S say, Enna, if you had nothing to do, you would be
r perfectly happy ?"
Yes," answered the' little girl, in a more sub-
dued manner; I should like to be elegantly dressed
as you are, and have nothing to do but sail about as
Syou do."
"You are very much mistaken, Enna, in supposing
me idle," said the fairy; I have my duties as well as
yourself. It is I who keep this living springofrom
stagnating by constantly agitating, it, and sending the
bright bubbles, who are my servantap to its sur-
face. Indeed, it is one of the conditifto which our
race owe their existence, that they should be con-
stantly employed; idleness brings its own punish-
ment to us. Do you see those 'nsightply-tones at
the bottom of the spring? they were once beings as
bright and brilliant as myself, but failing to employ
themselves for any good purpose, they gradually lost
their beauty, and became the dull heavy things you
now see, incapable of motion and unconscious of en-
joyment. The one among us who is the most active,
is chosen queen, a distinction conferred upon me, and
which I should forfeit did I yield to indolence. So

t . . l


you see, Enna, that for me at least, idleness has do
charm." .
"Yes," answered Enna, a little abashed, "but
your work is not at all like mine: if I were a family I '
should like very well to be employed at suA delight-
ful talks as yours. But I have many disagreeable
things to do-I don't like 1o be busy from morning
till night."
You are but a very little child, and have much
to learn," said the fairy, gravely. ''" But you must
see from what I have told you, how impossible it is
that I should gratify your desire to be idle. I will
make you happy, however; ana to accomplish this, I
will give you servants in plentyy"
Enna's eM danced with eager delight. With
plenty of seigAs I need never work," she exclaimed.
Wait a little, until you hear the conditions on
which thax come to you," replied the Lady of the
Spring. 'A have fld you that none of our race can
be idle and live, neither can they exist in the same
atmosphere with indolence. The fairy servants I
will give you, must necessarily be ignorant of your
duties, and you must teach them by your example
what they are to do. As they are placed under your
care, you are responsible for them; and I warn you
that your idleness will cause their death. These fairy
servants are like all of our race, very smql, but they


*, .

a e capable of perform g wonderful things; and if
by your example, you properly InItruct them in their
present duties, they will, after a* time, accomplish
works of which you do not even dream. But to make
them valuable servants, you must lay aside for a time
your desire to be idle. Are you willing totecept
them on these conditions?"
Oh, yes !" exclaimed EnnPa joyfully. "I will
gladly be industrious a while, that I may do nothing
ever afterwards.' I thank you a thousand times.
But when shall I begin ?"
"Come here to-moyw moping, when the first sun-
beam falls on the mountain and here, amid this tuft
of forget-me-nots, you will find r smalL4#ket, curi-
ously wrought; puW in your boso opening
it, and carry it with you all day. unset come
here again, and when the last ray quivers on the
fountain's breast, take out your casket Lppen it;
you will then see how you have fulfilleaB condi-
tions you now accept. The casket will contain a
number of minute fairies, as they are called, who are
willing to become your servants for life, provided you
keep them employed. If, by your example, you have
kept them busy, you will find the casket filled with
beautiful little creatures, radiant as myself But if
you have wasted your time, it will be filled with little

Lh < *j

leaden figures, dull and inaImate. Do you und&-
stand, Enna?" -.
Yes," answerd the little girl, tb6ghtfully, "the
minute fairies will be mine, and I mustaeach them *"
to work for me, by showing them how, myAf. How r
long 1 it take them to learn of me?"
"That depends entirely upon yourself," replied
the Lady of the Spring, encouragingly. Every
morning, at the first dawn of suifrise, the casket will
be lying here, replenished with fresh servants for
you ;Jand when, for three successive days, youf can
open it at sunset and jn d n eaden figures in it,
your task will be accomplished, and the minute fairies
bound to f oufor ever."
"The industriou&I the sooner they
will learn, ed the little girT "Well, I will try
with all my might"
The smiled encouragingly. "That is right,
Enna, yP it all'depends upon yourself, whether
or not you shall have servants in plenty; and now
hasten home, and remember to be here at the first
ray of sunshine to-morrow."
The beautiful fairy spread her wings as she spoke,
and floated away, out of Enna'i sight, and the little
girl, after filling her bucket, returned thoughtfully to
her home.
Enna determined to say nothing aboutger adven-

. (1


turo to her mother, but she was unusually silent at
pper, and went 'earlyto bed. 'The next morning
the little girl Wokaeat earliest peep of dawn, and
rising softly, went down stairs without disturbing any
S one; the1 taking herr little bucket, hastened away to
the well. This time she did not linger on bar way,
but arrived at the spring, and filling her bucket, sat
down to await the first sunbeam Enna, like most
other people who dd not value time, seldom rose early,
and she was therefore surprised and delighted with the
quiet and cool appearance of every thing around The
little birds wdre twittong abut among the branches,
singing their earliest songs; the dew laid heavily
upon the grass, and the wild flowers t unfold-
ing their leaves i ing up the f om their
grassy pillows, as though waiting Pmmand'of
the sun to arise. Presently te sea rosy light that
had been slowly spreading oveAh eastej y, deep-
ened to a richer glow, and one brigh en sun-
beam pierced through the intertwining branches,
and quivered on the waters of the spring. Enna
started up and looked among the tuft of f*get-me-
nots, scarcely expecting to find the casket, but in-
clined to think her fairy adventure all a dream. But
there, nestled among the tiny blossoms, was a small
curiously wrought silver box, so bright that it dazzled
the little lirl's eyes when the sun fell on it. Her


pxl xDu 3AImS. 4 .

heart beat with delit as she'put the casket in hA
bosom, and gayly taking upter bucket went sing
on her path. ,'
Very much surprised was Enna's -pother, when
she saw her little girl return thus early with her
buck filled from the spring.. Ste had thought
Enna was yet asleep. The*good wom&n kissed her
daughter's rosy 'c4i ,nd called her an industrious
little bee, to be oeoad so e ,ly, and Enna was so
well pleased to be thys flsed that she felt happier
than ever. *
"Now," thought EH a, t is my first task? I
am up so early that lmall Wve a fine opportunity
to set my te airies a good example. Well, I
will weeen patch lN e sun falls on it."
And aw[I to the NIa rdea and by the
time her mote il her in to breakfast, the weeds
had all pea" 3
Inc h7mnother's praise, and her desire to
teach her fairy servitors, Enna performed all her
morning tasks with, unwonted alacrity. She washed
the brmIfast things, swept up the floor, arranged her
own roMn, watered the'floprs, fed the chickens, and
did every thing her mother bid her so cheerfully that
the tears came in the good woman's eyes, at this un-
expected change.
After Enna had performed her usualduties, she
P, *

A* ".

S took up her book to study her psson. She began '
u y much in earnest, but presently her thoughts
IP. wandered away tp the spring, and she commenced
congratulating herself on her industry, and specu-
S lating on the fine times she would have after she had
taught her minute fairies how to work for her.
She sat idly with the book on her knee, when her
mother asked her if she was too.red' to study, and
told her she need not- learn her lesson unless she
This roused Enna to a sense of hA idleness, and
she studied away in good earnest. She-soon learned
her lesson, and recited it perfAly.
In the afternoon Enna was wind ome yarn
for her mother, ikhmeighbor wand the,
little girl soon bdMlnterested in Te gossip,
and let the yarn fall idly from r 4and. When the
neighbor rose to go, Enna saks it was vAy near
sunset, and so hastened to finish th yar~IiS e was
very anxious to open the casket. She felt pretty
sure that all the fairies would be safe, and so, taking
her bucket, hastened aware to the spring.
The sun was just sbking as she reacted the
silver water, and his last beam was quivering on its
surface, when she took the silver casket from her
bosom, and with trembling fingers touched the
spring. The casket flew open, and there within it
m *,

Were nuinbers of 4y beautiful creatures, who, as
Enna endeavored to count them, spread their ga '
like wings, and floated away. Enna 'W d into the
casket, expecting to find it empty, but to her disap-
pointment, there were,a grdt many little leaden
figures remaining.
Enna endeavored to recollect at what time during
.the lay she had been idle,-and lemember1l how she
had sat listening to the neighbor's gossip, and how
she had forgotten to study while indulging in golden '
dreams. She felt sorry and dis pointed, but re-
,solved not to be di uraged on the vpry first day
of trial; .nso, after carefully depositing the casket
among ft of forget-me-no ent thoughtfully
home, flM d resolute e future.
Several passed on wi rieduccess. One
afternoon was wastketh an idle companion; another
hour' sfEd awtl perceived while she watched the
antics oi organ-grinder's monkey; but still, when
Enna opened the casket jat sunset, she thought the
leaden figures seemed to diminish if number; and
thus youraged, she went hopefully on, each day en-
deavoring to avoid the fats of the preceding.
The little girl was unconsciously forming habits
of industry'; and what was at first a task had now
become a pleasure. She was happier tfan she had
ever been before; her mother praised her; no scold.

w '

.ins awaited her for neglected d Bs8; the neighbors
spoke kindly, and the hours of recreation after her
Stasks were dode had never seemed so bright and de-
lightful. Little Enna was in a fair way to have
u servants in plenty," a&ording to the fairy's promise,
when a new trial befell her.
One morning, upon awaking, she saw the sky look
dark and lowering, a&l heard grelt rain-dsops patter-
ing on the roof. Here was a trial. Enna did not
'like to rise so earl on a dark rainy m ring, and go
through th6 wetrass to the spring; an she laid
still, thinkingperhaps it would #top raining in a little ,
while. But .the clouds seemed determine to gi
the grass a good *[ching, and Enns er twice
called the little gi le e arose, S rly dress- *
ing herself, went wita very ilIrace to the spring.
It was very late, and Enna to fear the casket
would not be there; but she it in its usual
place, and, hastily grasping it, returned home sullen ,
and cross.
Alas, for poor Enna I that dky was a miserable
one to her. Every thing seemed to go wronl She
had wasted so much time it bed, that her tasks were
hurriedly done. Theyarn would tangle, and the
needle would not be threaded, and the lesson would
Wnt be learned, and Enna lost her temper, and even


the bright sunshinftlat broke amid the clouds jmta *.
before sunset could not restore her good humor. s
It was with many misgivings tati Enna opened ,v
her casket by the spring side on that evening. She
felt that the day had been misspent, and knew there
were many, very many, leaden images in the box; but
even she, was scarcely prepared for the sight that met
her eyes upon lifting the lid. There appeared to be
myriads of little shapeless leaden things within, and
the few who floated out had lost much of their bril-
liant haul she could have coun(l them, so small
was the number, hat she not been absorbed in grief
Sthe sight of the leaden minute fairies.
W. "Oh,bhat shall I do! wha ll Ido sobbed
the little*f I have wi elled so many fairy
servants, ta the Lady ofging will never trust
me again I what at ", very idle girl I have been I"
and she hid her JR her hands and wept loudly
and loni She wished the spring fairy would come
to her again, that she might tell her how sorry she
was, and beg her iot to withdraw her promise; and
she waited till the sun had long sunk behind the dis-
tant hills, and the pale stal were reflected like span-
gles in the spring, hoping tlairy would appear, but
she did not come. Enna returned home that night
udder but far wiser than before.
The first sunbeamhad scarcely kissed the spring

54.- Pr.E1 DE )AIBIEB.

on the next morning when Ennastood trembling at
*, (ts brink, hoping, yet fearing the casket would not be
there; but, as her eye sought the accustomed place,
she espied the shining box, and clasped it with an
eagerness she had never kdown before.
From that day Enna had the satisfaction to find
the leaden figures decrease every time the casket was
opened; and one evening, to her inexpressible delight,
not one remained. She was now near the goal of her
wishes; and after several failures, she was happy in
finding it filled wigd bright fairies for two*Peeding
evenings. You may be sure se "tried harder than
ever the next day, and with a beating heart repaired
to the spring side and opened her casket. Out soared*
a cloud of brilliant *Ji creatures, not one leaden
figure was there I s task was done I
As the little girl gazed aftea the floating forms
with delighted satisfaction, she heard her own name
called in a sweet low voice, and looking down beheld
her friend, the Lady of the Spring.
"You have accomplished yoe uk, Enna," said
the fairy, smiling kindly on Her, while her golden hair
floated back upon the breeze, and are entitled to your
reward." u n
Enna blushed, butound courage to reply-" It
took me much longer than I had thought; I did not


know how idle I wa, and feared I had offended you
by destroying so many of your fairies." A
"No," said the fairy, gravely, the minute firies
belong to one who is willing to sacrifice them in attain-
ing good. You have shown much perseverance, En-
na, in conquering your idle habits, and I think there
is no fear that you will destroy many more minute
fairies. You have conquered yourself, my dear little
girl, and thus have won a great victory. And now,"
she added, smiling, I must remember the reward-
'plenty4 servants and nothing to do.' Was not that
the wish, Enna?"
Enna was silent a few moments, and then replied
Cnidly, "Do you know I think I should not be con-
tented now, were I to be id have thing to do.
I am so happy, and 1l my w seem so ptasant;
and yet," she added blushing, "I should so like to
karn more-I woua like so much to see the wonder-
ful things you said the minute fairies equld do."
A kind smi bright and beautiful as a sunbeam,
lit up the lovely of the fairy, as she bent her soft
eyes tenderly on te little girl and said:
You have discovered the great secret, my Enna;
you have found the true of the servants I pro-
nised you. They will, inded, teach you many won-
derful things. Go on, and perfect the lesson you have
so bravely begun, ayl learn from the minute fairies



how much may be actImplished by a proper valuation
of time." .
As she spoke, she clasped around Enna's neck a
Srare locket, composer of a brilliant stone set round
with more than twenty smaller ones, each in their turn
i circled by many small and very daAlijg jewels.
"Wear this for my ake, Enna," she said; "and, by
Marking 4l varying lustre of these gems, you will
know whether your minute fairies are dbing their duty:
henceforward they are bound to serve you for ever.
Farewell, my child, go and prosper." *
As she spoke~the floated away from Enna's wistful
gaze, and the little girl rieprned joyously home.
And what happened then ?
Why gta's servants proved mods faithful ones,
andr*ge evidence of their #wer and worth as
years sped on; for Enna, profiting by their teach-
ings, became the finest scholar, the neatest hand-
maiden, the earliest riser, and most industrious girl
for miles around. Her cheeks woru glowof health,
her eyes sparkled with cheerul 9 -humor, and her
form was light and graceful *ith exercise and youth.
Busy as a bee, and hap" a bird, Enna found that
the improvement of q igs health, wealth, and

*. *
There was a hush, as Aunt Elsie finished her
story; not a word had been spoken during the read-
* ing; and now, Mary Parker, rising from her s6at,
came and laid little Lily's doll on Aunt Etie's
knee, and said, while tears stood in her eyes and her
voice tremn : j
ou chose that story for y especial benefit, dear
Aunt Elsie, I am sure, and I thik you for itlopplica-
tion. Theft," she added, smiling, as she hinted to the
doll," there is my first offing on the shrine of the mi-
nute fair
AuntElsie dre# Mary towards Ir, and kissed
her blooming theek fondly. I do not mean to be
personal in my selections," he said kindly, "but I
will hereafter read any story that is applidle to Oe
transactions of the day. I think, ary, we may aN Ad
much to apply to ourselves in a story inculcating the
.value of time."
That we may," answered many voices, as the
group rosetfromqthe table and gathered around the
"And now, Mis Lily," said Bertha Carrol, "as
you have profited so much our industry, please
tell us what the beautiful was that the fairy
gave Enna t"
"Oh, that I don't understand uswered Lily,
who was literally devoYing her doll with kisses to


the imminent risk of its rosy cheeks. But I know
the little fairies wer real minutes; and I suppose
they looked as beautiful as this dolly, only very small"
The locket represents the day, I think," said
'lara Wilder.
"Oh, yed' and the smaller stones the 4, nd the
little bits of ones minutes exclaimed Norah Gftham.
S It a very pre story; I like .it puch," said
Jessie Lester.
Yes," cimed in'haAs Carrol;" I can under-
stand well enough how the ttne slips t without
one'S knowing it. Go out to play ball or fiv1mi-
nutes before you begin t study, and whew I a whole
hour bounces off before yu khpw where you are."
.The olldren laughed at Charles's bouncing hour,
an after Lily's joll had been duly admired, they
hastened to remove their working materials, as Aunt
Elsie made it a rule never to leave the Soom disor-
dered upon retiring to rut.
The next morning the doll's adding was cele-
brated with all due magnificencid little Lily made
happy by having her superb dolly, in her dress of old-
fashioned silver brocf ad flowing veil, the cynosure
of all eyes. WhiL arker, as she witnessed
the delight which ent of her promise gave
her little favoyinwr ly resolved to remember,
and profit by t]story of the Minute Fairies.




WELT d|orlbus winter's day it was I The snow
lar full two feet deep on a level, aid wal frozen so
hard on the top as easily to bear up beneath your
footsteps. It was vey cold, though, and the sharp
.keen air rushed bitingly against your face as if jha4
awakened an appetite within its4K and was ready to
devour you. Jack Frost was wide awake that day,
and left his mark upon cheeks and noses; sa* crept
behind the woollen mufilersto give your earsp friendly
pinch byway ofremembrance. The sun shone down
on the crusted si as bright as bright could e, and
tried in vain to thaw its icy surface; but the bleak
northwest wind caught ll particles of the
drifted snow flakes, and back into the sun's
face in sport, and thus li was filled with
sparkling specks of ice, wh il a ess branches of
the trees were festooned with noweaths, and hung

60 II.SDI D ra lUEs.
*with icicles that eracled with a. clear sharp s~und
when the wind tossed the boughs about.
It was just the daZy o days for'sledding, and the
slope at the back ofAunt Elsie's was thehill of
for that purpose. .o,~ least thought our little
yas thepsallied forth ifter break&#fa ll pro-
by great ooatin tippeti sundryq mA er and
ttens, against the col.
The great sled that h a projectedVbiltea
failure; but there were seoL small ones belod g
to the party, ana these wentmerrilyjrielh *
girls frereallow4 their full|hare in the sportlbd
Iuch .shouts of merry laughter as rAg out on the
clear frosty air, might have warmed the heart of a
wear traveller.
Tw e morning eaed away rapidly, and at dinner
time the hungry group did ample justice to the store
of goo4,things, which Aunt Elsie's kindness had pro-
vided for em.
"Well, we have had rare sport, cried Ernest
CarroL when they had assembleMnce"more inthe
old oosy parlor, and ere arranging their evening
pastimes. "I d'n't f the least tired, and am
willing to ohalleng D a game of snow-ball."
"I wish I weik you, Ernest," said
little Frank Fi p up admiringly into the


fne glowing face of the other; I get tiredso easily,
Sanm am so soon out ofabreath."
"Never mind, Franky,!" ried*Harry Wilder, en-.
*ouragigly; "wait untAiot ow a Wn, and seei
ou-are noas strong, No won&r y
red, lit llow, whe-dyou would t3 your
drag gka eled wit- theBll in spite of all
pouldEay. JYou know vire l older, and of oou
,tfkan &h arue, ." |
JrankL hook his 4hl. ill never be as strong
ass An of a," /* id: I am afraid I shallnever
be te to work a hard I ought" #
Little Lilyome and lai her urly head oiher *
brother's beom, id looking up in his face, wps-
. pered:
"Wait till I grow up, Franky and I will bda
great sled with a horse, on purpose for you.
"So we will, Lily," said Harry Wilder, a8ious
to change the current of Frank's thought for the
sensitive and d*icate boy dwelt much upon t? lonely
situAion of himself and little sister-" so we will:
wouldV't it be fine to have a l e sleigh big enough
to accommodate us %ll, pair' of horses with
plenty of bellsah V"
"Yes," chimed id his rge; "I thought
this morning it was pretty l dragging the


sleds up till, just to slide down again. It was mak-
ing a toil of a pleasure, too muwh for my taste."
Why, that is the lest part of it, George," cried
jharles Carrol; "I dpn't see that it makgj much
W erence-what you ,. as you ars out in the
wJow." ,jjt
"But I am dimpiinted in our greahed," said
rge, fretfully, "and Iam tired of these little
ones. I propose that we tay in bfrs, dil trYto
make a large one, and let our old ones alote."
And so lose all the fine sledding I" excl"ied
Ernest: "not or one." 4
S" Let well e ugh alone, George,'aid his brother
Harry; "our slds run famously,J am re."
"Do you reinember, Harry.' answered his brother,
"a t a grand oneApmes Grant had? that's the kind
I want, these little ones seem so childish now."
"I guess you are tired, is the reason you feel so
disconteted, George," said his cousin Grace. You
said nothing against the sleds this morning."
George looked sulky.
"Oh," cried Lu Parker, George wants a large
stage sleigh, with six anl red feathers in their
heads, and buffalo bear skis, with great
red eyes and a besides bells enough to
deafen us, just awe a sensation. Then we must


all jump in, with Aunt Elsie in the back seat, throned
like an Indian princess: that is it, isn't it, Qeorge 1"
The ctfldren all laughed, and even Geqrge smiled'
at thj~idescription, while A t Els said, aml
"I think I would but ile s e so dignified a si
S tion, ase kone you have assigned m, and sho
need 'the lcap and bells to -make the pict
.LittlrLilytopped her hands in ecstasy at the
idea of Aunt Elsie in a'foolscap; and good humor
being restored, the controversy was dropped.
S. 'he evening had dowblosed in, the curtains
were let down,*hts brought, and usual emplzoy- *
ments prodled. ut the little paia were too much
fatigued to enter into any sport, and as Aunt Ehe
Ssat knitting idustriously in tp corner, there -e *
sundry whisperinlb, and side 'glances towards the
bookcase, and at last little Lily, putting her rose-
bud mouth close to the old lady's cheek, m amured
a request. Aunt Elsie laid down her needle and
smiled. J
"We will pvt it to vote, mfly," she said. "I
think yu will be apt to g slepy if I read to you
Ob, no, Aunt Elsie read, Aunt Elsie,
it is so many evenings since we s tory I" cried
S many voices


"Only since the night before last," replied the
old lady kindly; "however, if you will call Dinah
Spring uiln some nuts and apples, and I plate of
Follers, I will ry and find a short story."
The refreshments w#re Fought, the gld portfolio
ned, and good Auilf Elsie, putting asAj er knit
g work, prepared to read to the expectant~roup
e following story, which she called

1s3 Vu, iad NOW V."

In a very httle, very poor and strigling town,
t is not to be found on any map, and conse-
quently whose na* it is no sort of u1to remember,
there lived a poor weaver with twoknns.
These boys, named Klem and Carl, worked at the
loom, and learned their father's trade; but in such
a small place there was very little to do, and the
money came in but slowly to the pockets of the
weaver and his sons. j
When the brother r e wellgrown, asd fufly
able to work without their's assistance, the old
man resolved to t3p rney to a distant city,
where he had so relations pretty well to do in the
world, and see if he coual not engage some work


from that place, while his two sons attended to the
affairs at home. .
The ev4ing before the old man set ~t on
journey, the three were sitting together, talking ov
their prospects, when the ,the said: L
T er* a certain soinethtfg I have to tell y
my sol, to which you met pay great atentio
You must know that in this land there is a little 4
bird called 'I *ve,' who is very tame, and easily
caught, if you only go to the right place to find him. 'V'
'This bird is not very handsome to look t, but once
Scratch him, and make htm n fine soft Upt in a warm
corner, and he will lay you a ggldeLegg every day,
besides singing cheerily while vou are at work. He
is usually found not very far from home, and oele
. secured, your Fune i made"
Klem knd CarkPere*ery much surprised, as wel
as delighted at what they heard, and expressed their
determination to start off immediately in search of
the wonderful bird, especially Klem, who was an
unsettled fellow, and did nbt much like to work.
When the fattr saw how anxious his sons were
to tatch this wonderful bir added:
"There is another bir l ed an Oh, Had
I,' which you must be ai to mistake for the
wonderful'I Have.' The 'H, Hat' is very beau-
tiful, with golden wings, an a breast like a rainbow.



His song is sweeter than the nightingale, and he will
promiseyou many great things, provided you catch
im, which it will seem at first very easy do. But
no one has ever caugl4 him yet, while many have
t themselves in pursuit of him, I advise you to
e nothing to do'with the alluring bird but be
io intent, if yoi can onlyfe fortunate enough catch
,. an 'I Have.'"
The broth promised faithful ~ to follow their
Father's 'counse~and the next day he started from
. hope, leaving his'ons to act as they thought best ir
his absence. .
As soyn as their father was gone, the two brothers
began to consult how'they were to get the woner-
ful 'I Have,' who was to make them happy by laying
golden eggs.
Klem wanted to set out immeOiately in search of
Ve treasure, but Carl* who was a prudent fellow,
recommended his brother to stay at home until they
had finished rome work which they were fortunate
enough to have on hand, reminding him that "a bird
in the hand is worth two in the bush," and that it
would be soon enough set out after the wor4as
finished. But Klej d not listen to his brother's
advice. He called a poor, mean-spirited fellow,
to stay contentedly at home, working for a few shil-
lings, while the wonderfuTtreasure birA went perhaps


singing past the door, or was, at least, so easily
caught. *
"Yes," aiii Carl, "if you go to the right place
seek him." I
"And how are we to find him, if we don't go a
look atr him ?" replied Klem, impatiently.
ThI Klem's impatienceovercameis broth 1
prudence; and inwardly resolving not to spend too
much time in pursuit of the bird, buW o return son
and finish his weaving, Carl carefl kedoup the
door and accompanied his brother. *
X'hey went on for some time in silence, liste4g.
attentively to every sound, and pping to distinguish
the cheerful WIes qf the treasure bird. Their father.
had given them no description by which they could
distinguish it fhsm any ordinary sodster. But while
Carl remembered that he had eld them it was not a
handsome bird, Klem, whoseimagination was das
sled by the description of the Oh, Had I," blended
the two, and insisted that a bird who cAld lay golden
eggs, must necessarily be handsome to lo~ at. *
Thus the day were away, and as no bird had met 5
thet view, the brothers laiddown and slept that
night beneath the trees. D awake the next
morning before dawn, and ar*e his brother, telling
him that the birds would ren leave their nests, and
they would then have a good opportunity to catch


them. Accordingly the brothers waited with ex-
pectancy the moment when the feathered songsters
a should begin their morning lays.
j Presently a mingle twittering arose from the
)oughs, and forth from among the dew-laden leaves
' uttered the little minstrels,-tuning -their piping
oats for ir morning song.
S The brothers were each provided with a net,
wfich the fully spread, and caught very many
rds therein ut upon examining them, they found
m all ordinary birds, common to the country,
ee eggs, though plentiful, were never.yet known
to be golden. It Fas 'clear that the wonderful "I
Have" was not among them, and they liberated
the little prisoners.
Several days passed in tlis manner, without suo-
cess, and Carl remidkled his brother of his father's
words, that the "I Hfe" was generally found near
home, while they had wandered many miles away, and
proposed rearing to their work, and setting out at
a more znrable season, as perhaps the treasure bird
did not fly at that time of year.
But Klem was determined to persevere; held
Carl to go home if pleased, but he would not return
without the Wonderful bird. He blamed his brother
for being so easily discouraged, and prophesied that he

p----- sr. --- .-q


would be nothing but *poor weaver to the end of he
While they pre thus arguing, a burst of richly
melody startled them,'and cookingg up, they behel
superb bird sitting on the topmost branch of a
tree, ald singing melodiously, while' his pl
washed in the sunlight in a thousand shades of
most brilliant colors.
The brothers' hearts beat fast; t was assured
the treasury% birdj~ they had 'eve* sen aMy thing
like it before, and,they endeavored to spread tb
nets so as o entrap it But the b:rht bird was warp
he bent his graceful wiigs and floated aljft within
the brothers' each, and perched himself on a Idt
branch, looking on them with his bright eyes most
knowingly; then, when they were lute they had him,
he would elude their grasp, and soaring away to another
tree, pour forth suci gpsh o melody as inspired new
ardor in his pursuit.
Almost insensibly, the brothers were e on after
the bewildering bird, who constantly deluded' them
with the hope of catching him, and as constantly
When Carl saw how impodble it was to entrap
the fascinating bird, he remembered his father's warn-
ing, and became convinced that it was the deceptive
"Oh, Had I" that they were pursuing. He told his



brother what he thought, andpdvised him to abandon
Sso hopeless a chase; but Klem would not listen to a
l word he said, especially as, just at that moment, the
witching bird perched on hh shoulder, and Klem
certain he distinguished these words in his song:

Follow me, follow me,
SCatch me, and cage me;
.P *Carlcan go home if he please:
Vhiie starves and begs,
M 1 ill y golden eggs, a
. And, Klem, you can sit a your ease."
Klen%,st a triumphant look at his brother, and
rushed with outspread hands after thesongster, who
had soared off to a neighboring bush; while Carl,
more convinced tthn'ever that his brother was pursu-
3 ing a deceptive "Oh, Had I," ook his head reso-
lutely, and, bidding hn far. turned his steps
towards home.
As.Carl went hqbiewards, he toted to look after
his brother, and shouted tohim to return; but Klem
would not listen, and Carl soon lost eight of him in
the distance.
When Carl arrived at home, he went immediately
to work, resolved to banish'all thoughts of the trea-
sure bird, at least for the present. He had enough
weaving to keep him employed many days, now that



his brother wasnot wi him tolesist; and heworkged f
away late and early, anxious to accomplish his task.
When the neighbors heard the steady click of Carl'A
loom, all the day long, and far into the night, th
thought what a steady industrious fellow is Carl
weaver;" and forthwith one told the 6ther, and
leeme8 more eager than ever to give himemploym
His work was well and punctually done; people
began to remark on i, and thus wdA came in mor-
plentifully;- Carl was kept. - y, aa hFad no time
to go in search of tlw wonderful "I Have." His wants
Were simple, and daily a little was laid by, Carl think- p
ing to atone in a measure to his father for not obtain-
ing the wondqful treasure bird.
One fine summer morning Carl was singing at his
work, by the open window, when suddenly he heard
a sweet trilling melody, close at his ear; and there, ,
perched on the en is looi, sat4 tiny brown bird,
with bright bla i singing away in the merriest
and most sociabianner imagii e. It looked very
like the little or ary forest birds that b6come'tame by
seeing mankinuiand often fly down by a doorway to
pick up the crumbs.
Carl was pleased with the familiar air of his little
visitor, and held out his hand, saying, You are a
sociable little fellow; come here and sing me another
song if it please you."


To his great surprise anldelight, the little bird
obeyed the summons, and seating himself on Carl's
*hand, trolled forth a merry roundelay in a manner
irresistibly comic, and with so many trills and
avers, that Carl was perfectly delighted; and
hen the little warbler paused in his song, and'flew
y to the window-seat, Carl hastened to spread
crumbs for him, hoping to entice him to stay. The
S ittle bird pickectup the crumb* and hovered round
P* the open window ally, cheering Carl with his lively
songs, and in the evening, after the weaver had finished
his work, he carefully made a soft, warm nest, and
p~ced it upon one of the beams near the window, at
the same time chirping to his little singing friend,
and'inviting him to enter.
The bird seemed to understand Owl's invitation,
and soon took possession of his comfortable quarters.
After this the litge brown bird me Carl's constant
guest; all day long cheering hi C h his ry and
delightful melody,t d eating the bs out of his
hand, pirchirn on his shoulder, a exhibiting the
utmost fondness for him.
. "I don't believe there are any golden eggs in your
aut, my little friend," said Carl one day to his bird,
* "fr I have seen plenty of your kind before; but I
wouldn't exchange your pleasant company and sweet
voice for any 'I Have' in the land."


The little brown bid flew up into its nest at this,
and there burst forth in such a gush of trillings and,
quaverings, that Carl was fain to put up his hand t
his head white he said, laughing:
"Well, wefl I don't mean to disturb your n
my little fellow; I earn enough at my trade for
both, and I think, when my fther sees my little h
and hears your pleasant voice, hb will not regret 6
'I Have.' I wish poor Klem would come home again,
and we could all be happy together."
Months had passed away, and no tidings had been
heard of Klem, when one evening, as Carl was sit-
ting at hJN door, he espied his father coming don
the road. He hastened to him, and a joyful meeting
it was, you may be certain.
I have gt plenty of work, Carl," said his father,
after they were seated within, "for the fame of your
industry has reao even the great city where I
have been, and wled never be idle again for want
of employment." -
Carl then told his father the adventures of Klem
and himself. $he old man was very much depressed
at the news. It was an Oh, Had I" that had be-
guiled Klem, and he feared he would never give up
the chase. 9
"Yes, poor elem would not take my counsel," re-
plied Carl, sadly; "but I have a dear little bird here


That keeps me good company, and I do not pine after
e wonderful "I Have."
As he spoke, the little brown bird jumped up on
l edge of the nest, and sung a merry lay, in which,
Bis great wondment, Carl plain) distinguished

S The ney wifboon break
I have filled for your sake,
Then bqild me another,
As soft u the other,
And through the long day
While you're working away,
You never shall weary,
While I sing you be cheery, be cheeryA

SThe last words, "e cheery," wre trolled out in
every variety of note, and as the lingtrihg cadence
died away, a shower of golden eggs came tumbling
down upon Carl'%loom; the li& brown bird sang
away louder than ever, and Carl "stood. with uplifted
hands and eyes, while his father picked up the gold.
You may be sure that, the wonderful little "I
Have" had a soft, warm nest prepared in a very short
t aj, and so comfortable did he find his quarters, that
V .ed with Carl all his life; and when the weaver
Qt at an advanced age, the little brown bird sang
* a strain of triumphant melody as helared upwards,
as though he would fain express that his good friend


Carl had laid up never-failing riches above.
the wonderful "I Have" made Carl rich and oo
tested during his life, and happy in death; but
for poor Klemn nothing more was er heard of
and for asghtwe know, he may chasing th
ceptive Oh, Had I" even until now.

Is that all l" exclaimed the children, as Aunt
Elsie clo.. the manuscript.
mes" replied, the old lady; "I read you a shkrt
story tis time, because you areeleepy and tired."
%Oh no, le are not, indeed; the story was a great
deal too short," cried many voices.
"Be cheery, bedeery," screamed little Lily; "I
am the little brown bir, and will Max another golden
story from Aunt Elsie to-morrow night."
The children all laughed, and Bertha Carrol
said: True, Lily, I think we are making poor appli-
cation of Aunt Elsie's beautiful story, not to be con-
tented with the I Have,' but still longing aft "
'Oh, Had I.'"
Ypu mean a longer story," said Norah GrahL;
"it was too pretty to be s short. I wish Aunt Elsie
had spun it out."


"It sounds like a German story," said Harry Wil-
r; "and the 'I Have' personifies Content, of

4 It is taken fr a German fancy," replied Aunt
piie; they say Were are two such liti$ birds in
nd, and they call them 'Habtch and Hattch.' "
oll names enough," laughed Ernest; "but I
story much. "After this my motto shall be,
contentment i great4ches."
S "I wonder what became of 5jem," said Frank
*Field, musingly; "it seems so natural to be ever
striving after the bright and unattainable, that I do
not wonder at his choice."
"Take care, F k, don't get bewitcheAy an
S'Oh, had I,' I beseech yW," cried Harry, "particu-
larly with such a sweet little'I Have' ever near
you;'" and he pointed towards Lily.
Aunt Elsie gie an app.ring smile to Harry
Wilder. She knew Frank's bnsitive, dreamy, poeti-
cal nature was illy fitted to encounter the hardships
of his destiny, and she saw that Harry Wilder under-
too him thoroughly, and strove to strengthen and
him, with his hearty common sense.
M rge had sat musingly apart, but he now ap-
ed Aunt Elsie with a pencil and paer,I in his
hand. "Will you please .tell me how tol those
German words?" he said.


Aunt Elsie complied, and George wrote theme
"And what use are you going ao make of' Hab
and Hattch,' may I ask 13" queaoned Aunt
kindly. .
I a going to paint the Habtch' on my
replied George, frankly, "to remind me always
content with 'I Have,' and let 'Oh, Had I' alo-
Aunt Elsie played her hand approvingly o
boy's shoulder, and Lucy P r exclaimed:
"Farewell, bit visions of six horses, red fea-
thers, and bear skins; Aunt Elsie can never be ap
Indian princess, or wear the cap and belk. The Oh,
HaA' has vanished in the "distance, and hereafter
we mua be contented tojbde Ir& hill on ginsig-
nifioant' I Have.'"
"'I Have' is a great possession," cried Willie
Graham, with his mouth full, fot have a fine brown
roller, and oh had tome nuts, I should want no-
thing more," he addel, as Lily caught up the basket
of nuts'and Ian across the room, exclaiming:

Fellow them, follow them,
Catch them, and crack them."

o W1ole party joined in the chase, amidl h-
S ing and singing, and Mftq obtaining the wished-for


grize, the children regaled themselves, and in due
"tpe were snugly tucked away in bed, to dream of
'. Haves" and "Oh, Had Is."



"A STORY! a s#' cried a dozen merry voices, as
Aunt Elsie joined the little group on the following
evening. "A long story this time, if you please, and
let i je just as pretty asthe one of the little lown
bird." 43 6
Aunt Elsie made IWway good-naturedTy. midst
the group of P rs, some of whom were cling-
ing around her, ers arranged the lights, ar ;
placed the foots title Lily officiously climbedr
up on a chair, to unl the old bookcase.
"Patience, ptence, my little people," said the
old lady, as she witnessed their busy arrangements
" You have profited but little, I fear, from my lesson
on the merits of Slow and Sure; you are patj
afte im now, and tumbling head over hee ter

children loudly denied Aunt Elsie's aoousa-



,tion; and as they seated themselves around the table
Frank Field said:
"I have been thinking that perhaps it is not
after all,.to be contented with things just as
ae, for then we would never be anxious for im-

"The, Frank," answered Harry Wilder. "Sup-
our ancestors had been satisfied with their
implements, and slow j hes, where would
now have been our machinery L roads ?"
"Your inferences are wron l d Aunt Elsie.
"The spirits of discontent, and of'eager inquiry after
knowledge, are entirely dissimilar. While we are
taut to be content, in whtever situation we are
we are A*Rw hidden to improve it
by lawful, exertion the samp time, it is
wAe not to forsake a real god cied benefit,
aid like Klemi, orlook "e i our pur-
suit of'Oh, Had I.' I oaew a discon-
tented person who achieved end, while one
who is constantly improving tent, simply be-
cause he is progressing towards ultimate perfection."
"That is the true way to be contented and happy,"
s rnest; "to keep one's self always busy. Father
sany it is only stagnant water that becomes impure-
rapid streams are always clear and health y4lj *
"I wonder," said Frank, musingly, "whether any


one was ever contented; it seems to me every one
wishes for something that he has not I"
"Yes," added May Lester, "an when they lk
tain the coveted ize, ft becomes alet valuele
them, and they sigh for something more."
"If it were not for this feeling there
no such thing as hope, and we would never A
without hope, you know," replied Grace.
"I remember jing a story somewhere,"
George, "of a an who posted a bill upon hiW *
house, stating tlhe place would be given to any
person who was perfectly contented, and when any
one applied to him, he asked them 'Are you per-
fectly content?' Wh the) answered, 'Yej he
asked, Then what in antwith my ""
S The children l h nd Harry remae:
hHe must i n rather a cynical philosopher,
for he enjoyedre oftdisappointing, alde
ridiculing othept his property afe."
"He was ai fi sh man, at any rate," re-
marked Clara, "U cruel besides, to excite expecta-
tions he never meant to fulfil."
"I have often noticed," said Frank, "how many
people seem to think themselves worse off thaI
one e e, when they have a great deal more an
* meol to make them happy. It is strange that
they see every one else's good, and only their own evil"


Aunt Elsie looked fondly, yet sadly, on the little
boy as she answered, smiling kindly on him:
STake care, jy dear Frank, that you do not be-
one of th pwho wilfully stand in the shade of
own path, and grumble at the sunlight that
upon hat of another. We must ever strive to
bb&, that whatever troubles or trials befall us, +
are directed by a never erring Providence,
ordains for us those burdenswe are most able to
a, and if wewere to excha ces with those
whose lot sAems enviable, we wouid it accompa-
nied by some sorrow, for which we were entirely un-
f "fitted."
"That reminds me of the 'Mountain of Miseries,'
I thinuis written by AJ in which every one
Sis allowed to exchange mnles with his neighbor,
nd after a trial each person is lad to take up his
bMp again," said BMtha.
"Yes, I remember that,i y Parker, "and
the description of the tall malexeanging his long
legs for a pair of short ones, made a laugh enough.
But now you hate all been talking so sensibly that I
dare not put in a word edgewise, and I am afraid
the evening will be spent without Aunt Elsie's pro-
mised story; so, ladies and gentlemen, will you be
content to finish your conversation on anot*hfpa


sion, and enjoy the present good contained in yodsr
old bookcase 9"
The younger children m ded n L
proposition, and after a little mo
settled quietly down, like a a of
old portfolio being produced, Aunt
manuscript, which she said had some bearing
their conversation, and prepared to read. Little
petitioned that the jtory should be a long one, us
was not at all Norah polished Aunt Bli
glasses, and 3 shaded the light to 'suit the old
lady's eyes; and thus, all being in readiness, the little
folks listened attentively to the story of

WA 01
^*P ijn p;, uuk t^ji tuig tw.

Once upon a o matter iwheno
city, situated no'matter where-ssjP i
tell you bothimt and place, it is nA at all likely you
would take a long journey to the city, and search its
archives, to assure yourself of the truth of these
wonderful events I am about to relate. Sufficeit to
say, on the veracity qf a chronicler, that the story is
as tfisu though the man in the moon had told it
himself; therefore, be satisfied to learn, that in a oer-


Steh city, at a certain time, lived two neighbors who
were united in the strictest bonds of friendship and sym-
y, each beinAqually poor, and equally affected.
Htmfi rter, was blest with a nose so
1rge as to pcst a shadow' almost as
If, so that he was obliged to be very
lest in turning the corners of the streets he
iould give his poor nose an'unlucky blow. And
the pedestrians, when they saw a long shadow creep-
iag*on the pavement, always stepped aside, saying
with contemptuous pity, "Here cones Andreas,
the porter, who carries his greatest burden between
his eyes and chin."
Besides being the possessor of so unusual a nose,
poor Andreas had taken on himself another trouble,
in the shape of a scolding wife; who, although she
Sner failed to leave a nicely prepared supper and
Sema hearth, ready for Andreas oi his return home,
ye al seasoned his food with.so many gibes and
onmr *V and scolded so unceasingly if her un-
lucky husband left a foot-print on the bright hearth-
stone, that the tired porter would have been better
contented to go supperless and cold to his bed, rather
than to be fed and warmed at the expense of his
quiet, to say nothing of an occasional tweak at the
ungainly nose, that, as the wife too truly said, "was
continually poking itself where it was dot wanted,"


and she might also have added, "where its unfor-
tunate owner had no idea it was going."
On these melancholy occasions, t ly comfort
the unlucky porter was to tae his pi and s iteal
his neighbor Casper's house,sure of his smylm y sa
condolence. Casper, the cobbler, considered himself
the most afflicted of mortals, for he was doomed to
carry Wpon his back an enormous hump, larger than
any package whihq t friend, the porter, had ever
been known to lift. As he sat all the day pulling out
his waxed thread, with his clamps between his knees,
the smell of neighbor Andreas' savory supper came
refreshingly to his nostrils, and he envied him the
wife who could prepare his food so seasonably.
By this you may know that Casper was a miser-
* able bachelor, whoras obliged to boil his own coffee,
and attend to his owns affairs, since not a woman in
the country could be found willing to share thqhome
and poverty of the Jumpbacked cobbler. 0 '
This was the only subject upon which the friends
.ever contended, each insisting upon the superior ills
of his individual situation, and declaring that he
alone was the most afflicted and miserable creature .
on the face of the earth.
To Andreas the hump of his friend seemed only
a package, never laid down, and he preferred the thick


coffee and dirty hearth, to his own tidy home, with
the ceaseless accompaniment of a scolding wife;
while Casper sidered the enormous nose of his
'iend the port, as a mere trifle, compared to his
everlatg burden, and thought the warm hearth and
good suppers cheaply bought at thb expense of a little
While affairs were in' this condition, the friends
strolled out one evening afterihejr work was done,
to indulge in the comfort of reciprocal sympathy. It
had been an unlucky'day for poor ARdres ; Lis un-
fortunate nose had met with several severe knocks,
and his tidy wife was tidier, and in consequence, crosser
than ever. Andreas felt very unhappy; he was quite
sure that he was the most miserable man alive, and
so he told his friend. ,
Casper, on his part, insisted that his misfortunes.
exceeded his friend's tenfold, inasmuch that there was
nofe lho thought enough of him, even to give him a
scolding now and then. The dispute waxed warmer,
until the two friends became really angry, and the,
argument seemed likely to end in blows, when Casper,
who was just about shaking his clenched hand at the
porter, started back in affright, for there, comfortably
seated on Andreas' nose, and thumping his heels
against its sides as though it were a horse, appeared
the drollest little figure imaginable.



He was not higher than a finger, and united in his
own tiny figure the deformities of each of the combat-
ants; his nose being as long as his I and the humpf
Supon his back nearly the size of hisu ole body. C
This comical little figure wore a red ay with a
long tassel, and his small black eyes twinkled merrily
beneath a mass of foxy-looking hair.
When he saw that Casper had observed him, he
sprang nimbly off the orter's nose and swung himself
on the branch of a tree that grew near, then seating
himself on the extreme end of he bough, commenced
laughing immoderately, to the no small wonderment
of tA friends, who knew not what to think of this
strange intruder. After a few seconds he recovered
from his fit of merriment, and exclaimed, in a shrill
"How now, what child's play is this Are ye
so jealous of each other's beauty that ye must. needs
come to blows about it ?"
This speech increased the astonishment of te two,
and the dwarf, seeing their looks of fightened sur-
prise, again addressed them.
"Come, come, my friends," said he, in a good-
natured tone, "never be afraid of one so much lik *
yourselves, seeing that I might pass for the brother
of either; I mean you no harm; tell me the cause of


your quarrel, and who knows but I may settle it to
the satisfaction of both ?"
Hearing tl reasonable address and kind offer,
the friends toorourage, and Casper, who (by reason,-
perhaps, of never having a wife) possessed more bra-
very than his comrade, told the dwarf the story of
their respective infirmities, and the quarrel that had
arisen therefrom.
You may be sure he painted his own troubles in
the strongest colors, and spoke slightingly of the por-
ter's trials; but Andreas interrupted him, exclaiming
loudly, that the eebbler was a prince beside him and
never was a poor martal so afflicted as himself
To all this loud and angry talking the dwarf made
no answer but by immoderate peals of laughter, and
the two disputants becoming enraged at his ill-timed
mirth, turned to quit the spot, when the dwarf ex-
Stay, my worthy fellows, you must not wonder
at my laughing that you should be so anxious to get
rid of what 1 consider great ornaments. I suppose
now you would call me deformed. I assure you I am
considered the handsomest courtier in her fairy majes
ty's dominions. But since, like foolish, short-sighted
mortals, you are not satisfied with your condition,
what say you to an exchange Andreas shall carry

the hump, and Casper take the long nose and scolding
"With all my heart," cried thorter, joyfully,
." and never have I shouldered a bu so readily."
"The smell of your suppers is very savory," re-
plied the cobbler, "and for their sakes I am well con-
tent to take both nose and wife, in the bargain."
Are you agreed, then 2" asked the dwarf
"That we are," cried both; "but how is this
happy exchange to bfbrought about?"
"Trust that to me," answeed their new benefao- '
tor. "All you have to do, is to take each a lozenge
oun the box I will give you, la it on your tongue,
and go home as usual, Andreas tOthe cobbler's house%
and Casper to -the home of the porter. Then, how-
ever it may seem to yourselves, to others it will ap-
pear that you have completely changed persons. Keep
a your own counsel, and Casper, beware how you trust
your new wife with your secret."
The dwarf thought he had made a fine joke at
this, and fell again into a violent fit f lAughter; but
suddenly checking himself, he said: '
"As I foresee, you will desire some other change
ere long, I wit grant you two other wishes, on con-
dition that they are made by beth a the same mo-
ment. See here," and at he spoke, h pulled two

8 '


strands out of his cap tassel and knotted them firmly
on a high branch; whenever you agree to wish for
' the same thing the same moment, come to this tree,
and with your Mited strength break of one of theses
threads: your wish will'then be accomplished."
The two friends were highly delighted at this
promise, and after repeatedly thanking the dwarf,
who sat grinning among the leaves, they each accept-
Sed the lozenge that he offered, and careful marking'
the particular tree on which'.hung the" charmed
threads, hurried gaylfon, anxious to test the truth *
of the dwarf's promise.
It must be confessed that Andreas crept Jly
S jast his open door, fearing that his wife would rcog-
nizq him, and call him in; while Casper stood trem-
blingly on the threshold, watching the preparations for
supper, and inhaling its savory odor, doubtful whe-
ther he should enter. Presently the porter's wife *
looked up, and seeing Casper peering in at the door,
S exclaimed in an angry tone:
"What are you standing gaping at, ye lasy lout ?
here is the meat burnt to a crisp, waiting your snail's
pace: must I e'en take hold of that long nose ofv
thine, and drag ye in to supper ?" '
S This speeiq, though it startled Casper, convinced '
him that he bore his friend's likeness, and so, pluck-

. a

- -, TT-.,

ing up courage, It marched in and seated himself at
the table, without speaking a word. Owing to the
strangeness of his new position, anfihe fear of.do.
ing something that would reveal l wonderful se-J*
cret, poor Casper aid many awkward things, spill-
* ing the salt, upsetting his cup, breaking the
saucer, an' pouring tfe hot coffee over the nicely-
sanded floor. These things called down a volley of
wrath from Ihe tidy wife, who spared neither gibe
nor hard *ord in her Age. Casper thought the best
way to keep peace, was to keep silent; and so man-
aged to eat a very hearty supper despite the pepper-
in '.his shrewish companion. After supper the *
wife ade him, in no vesy gentle terms, to shoulder -qj
large parcel that laid upon the floor, and carry it up
to the loft; but so awkwardly did the unlucky Casper
fulfil her commands, that the pack tumbled off his
back, and a loud crash betrayed the ruin he had oc-
casioned, as the bundle contain' several necessary
articles of housekeeping that the thoughtful housewife
had just purchased.
Here was a catastrophe never before was a
foor man so assailed and abused. Catching the un-.
_tf~tunate wight by the nose, she swung him round
,WIke a cat, venting at the same time all manner of
railing beside many blows upon his devoted head,


and conclnding her scolding by telling her victim to
go to his friend the cobbler and learn to stitch leather,
1 side he was %or nothing else.
As Casper t t stealthily to the door, after escap-
P ing her grasp, he saw the porter looking warily in
at the window, evidently rejoiing that Ie was liber- *
ated from this thraldom, and enjoying the sane be-
fore him.
Casper hastened to join his friend. Andreas
chuckled mightily over the poor cobbler, and de-
r elared the dirty hearth, and %nuddy coffee, to be the
most delightful things in existence, enlivened kthe *
distant sound of his shrewish spouse's voice. Rile
- Casper, now partially recovered from his bruises and
fright, declared himself perfectly willing to pay the
penalty in consideration of the hearty meal he had
After a long conversation on the wonderful events
of the day, Casper carried his clamps into his new
home, glad to avail himself of the shrew's permission"
to work at his trade; while Andreas, who was ignor-
ant of shoemaking, was happy to proceed in his o0Jd
vocation. They parted with mutual self congratu1,~
tions and great anticipations of comfort. %
Many were the jeers and scoffs that Casper wa
doomed to bear, when on the following morning he

9e 0


seated himself at work, in leather apron, and with
clamps between his knees.
"A fine work ye will make tackig and
threading; all the gentry will come you with their
shoes, to a certainty. We'll be rich enough now, I
troy." these and(undry other remarks, were
poured into the poor cobbler's ears, as he commenced *
.his task. %
But I found fullsoon that he had "reckoned
Without his host," as the saying is, when he took up
his trade, for the long nose was terribly in the way, *
a alpived so many sbbs from the awl, and knocks
wttI'the hammer, that.he was fain to lay aside his
work before the day was over, amid the renewed jee
ing of the shrew.
A good dinner comforted him in his afflictions,
and he determined to await the appearance of his
friend, and consult what was best to be done. In a
short time the poor porter came toiling up the street,
Stirred and worn. He beckoned to Casper as he
passed, and went in his new home, where the cobbler
soon joined him.
"This will never do, my friend," cried Andreas,
. throwing himself upon a seat as he spoke. "This
confounded hump is burden enough without stoul-
dering any other. I cannot carry half as much as I



did formerly, and am tired to death, without having
earned enough to buy my supper."
S. "My case equally cruel, I assure you," re-
turned the other; "since I find it impossible to draw
out my awl without stabbing this unfortunate nose,
that I so foolishly borrowed you, besides being
forced to-bea all the abuse of your delightful ife.
At this the porter, burst into a lauh, as he re-
plied: "It was droll enough to hear mydld custo-
mers asking where I had gone to; and great was
their astonishment when I told them we had ex-
changed callings. I said nota word about the, er
change, of that you may be sure."
"But what is to be done?" asked Pasper, dole-
fully; "we will both starve at'this rate, as neither can
work as we used to do. Had we not better go to the
wishing-tree, and wish for some employment that will-
gain us a livelihood ?
"No," said Andreas, thoughtfully, "I think not;
we might wish for something better than that. I
have it! Let us wish for wealth, riches unbounded,
and no work. What say you to that, my friend ?"
"'Agreed, with all my heart cried the other,
joyfully; "and let us go this moment. What a
happy thought of yours that was, eh, Andreas."
Without wasting any more time in talking, the
two hurried forward to the wishing-tree, and having


found the threads, gave a hard pull together; the 4
string snapped, and just then they heard the merry,
mocking laugh of the dwarf, b*t co arpe no one. .
Upon returning home, Casper fomd his scolding
mate very busily engaged opening a large chest that
stood on the table, *ile another, still larger, was
place near the door. Upon seeing ter supposed
husband, she exclaimed: *
"Com&hither ye lumbering lout, and open this
chest, can ye; ye don't, deserve the good luck that
has befallen you, I am sure. There I" she cried, as *
Cas r succeeded in forcing the lid-" there look :
atR ye scape-grace, and bless your stars that sent
me to be a wii to ye." -
As she spoke, she lifted out a handful of gold
pieces, and spread them on the table before the aston-
ished Casper.
"Where-where, did this come from ?" he gasped
forth at laseoverpowered by the sudden accomplish
*ment of his wish.
Why, from one of my relations, to be sure. He
died and left me all his gold. There, read that," and
she tossed a letter towards him.
Poor Casper scarcely knew whether he stood on
Shis head or heels, at this unexpected sight; but
after helping the dame (whom the gold had put in


unwonted good-humor) to secrete the prize, he pst-
ened.to tell Andreas the wonderful news.
Upon arving at his friend's, he was surprised to
find the door erefully barred. After knocking sev-
l eral times very loudly, he saw Andreas peer cau-
S tiously out of the window, andpon seeing Casper, he
hastened to open tde door just wide enough tbumiLI
his wondeing friend., After carefully refastening .
it, Andleas mysteriously led the cobbl into thP
room, and there, displayed upon the flr, was sight a
that renewed Casper's astonishment. Twelve large
pots stood side by-side, each uqcovqe4, and heaped
to the brim with shining gold.S As Orper stopped
to examine it, the porter told him,oq, when he
went to boil his coffee, upon his return home, the tot
constantly upset, the hearth was 'so broken, and
uneven, and when he became imJ 7nt, and raised
up the hearth-stone, to endegyor to i it evenly,
Jese twelve pots of gold met his astbhed gaze.
He then cautiously barred the door for fear of inter-e
ruption, apd proceeded to tpke the treasure Rm its
hiding-place, when the cOming of his friend disturbed
This was the wonderful tale that Asdreas related
to the cobbler, who in return, recounted his wonderful
accession of fortune, through his wife's re&tive.
Both were of course convinced of the dwarf's

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