ildren, worrying the
women as they washed their clothes at the open stone basins, even
putting his lean fingers into the fountain spout to stop the water,
while the people remained staring open-mouthed, or ran off to fetch a
neighbour to find out what was the matter.

This was all very pleasant to Terli, and at night he would hurry back
to his relations in their cave under the stones of the torrent, and
enjoy a good laugh at the day's adventures.

There was only one thing that worried him. Several of the cleverest
old women of the village, who had on several occasions seen Terli
dancing about the country, agreed to hang a little pot of the Church
water in the doors of their houses; and once or twice the Troll, on
attempting to enter in order to teaze the inhabitants, had suddenly
caught sight of the water, and rushed away with a scream of rage and
disappointment.

"Never River-Troll can stand the sight of the Church Fountain!" said
the old women, and rubbed their hands gleefully.

In the early summer there was to be a great wedding at the old
Church, the Bridegroom the son of a rich farmer, the Bride one of the
young girls of the village; and Terli, who had known them both from
childhood, determined that for once in his life he would enter the
unknown region of the Church Terrace.

"Elena has often annoyed me in the past," laughed Terli, "so it is
only fair I should try and annoy her in the future"--and he sat down
cross-legged at the bottom of a water trough to arrange his plans
quietly in seclusion.

An old horse came by, dragging a creaking waggon, and the driver
stopped to allow the animal to drink.

The Troll raised himself leisurely, and as the horse put in his head,
Terli seized it in both hands, and hung on so firmly that it was
impossible for the poor creature to get away.

"Let go!" said the horse, angrily--for he understood the Troll
language. "Let me go! What are you doing?"

"I shan't let you go till you make me a promise. You get the
Wood-Troll to cork up the Church Fountain at daybreak on Friday
morning, and I'll let you drink as much as you like now, and go
without hindrance afterwards."

"I shan't promise," said the horse, crossly. "I don't see why I
should."

"Well, I shall hang on till you _do_," said the Troll with a
disagreeable laugh; and he gripped the old horse more tightly than
ever.

"Oh, leave off! I'm being suffocated. I'll promise anything," cried
the horse.

[Illustratio