s he.

"Here I am," says Ill-Luck--"here in this hazel-nut, under the roots of
the oak-tree."

Thereupon the Fiddler laid aside his fiddle and bow, and fell to
poking and prying under the roots until he found the nut. Then he began
twisting and turning it in his fingers, looking first on one side and
then on the other, and all the while Ill-Luck kept crying, "Let me out!
let me out!"

It was not long before the Fiddler found the little wooden plug, and
then nothing would do but he must take a peep inside the nut to see if
Ill-Luck was really there. So he picked and pulled at the wooden plug,
until at last out it came; and--phst! pop! out came Ill-Luck along with
it.

Plague take the Fiddler! say I.

"Listen," says Ill-Luck. "It has been many a long day that I have been
in that hazel-nut, and you are the man that has let me out; for once
in a way I will do a good turn to a poor human body." Therewith, and
without giving the Fiddler time to speak a word, Ill-Luck caught him up
by the belt, and--whiz! away he flew like a bullet, over hill and over
valley; over moor and over mountain, so fast that not enough wind was
left in the Fiddler's stomach to say "Bo!"

By-and-by he came to a garden, and there he let the Fiddler drop on
the soft grass below. Then away he flew to attend to other matters of
greater need.

When the Fiddler had gathered his wits together, and himself to
his feet, he saw that he lay in a beautiful garden of flowers and
fruit-trees and marble walks and what not, and that at the end of
it stood a great, splendid house, all built of white marble, with a
fountain in front, and peacocks strutting about on the lawn.

Well, the Fiddler smoothed down his hair and brushed his clothes a bit,
and off he went to see what was to be seen at the grand house at the end
of the garden.

He entered the door, and nobody said no to him. Then he passed through
one room after another, and each was finer than the one he left behind.
Many servants stood around; but they only bowed, and never asked whence
he came. At last he came to a room where a little old man sat at a
table. The table was spread with a feast that smelled so good that it
brought tears to the Fiddler's eyes and water to his mouth, and all
the plates were of pure gold. The little old man sat alone, but another
place was spread, as though he were expecting some one. As the Fiddler
came in the little old man nodded and smiled. "Welcome!" he cried; "and