The two advance slowly and cautiously to the centre of the saloon, and
then the cavalier, throwing himself on his knees, (that's the way
fairies invariably make love,) beseeches his companion to have pity
upon him. The lady throws back her veil with a motion of indescribable
grace, and looking down into the upturned face of her lover, seriously
a moment, then lightly, utters a low laugh, and replies,

"Very well, Sir Timothy Lawn, upon my word! Quite prettily done,
indeed! You must have been taking lessons of Signor Sweetbriar, the
royal parson. Now do run and bring me a glass of geranium-dew--I
protest I have drank scarcely a drop all the evening."

"Not one word, then, for your poor lover and true knight," sighed Sir
Timothy, in a tone of the deepest despondence.

"I did not come here to listen to school-boy nonsense," said the lady
Dewbell, with a haughty and impatient motion of the head. "I came to
get a glass of geranium-water. But, as you decline obliging me to that
extent, I suppose I must e'en get it for myself. Good-night to you,
Sir Timothy! Pleasant dreams!" and she disappeared.

The knight was for a moment confounded; then rising slowly, he pointed
to a bright star that shone directly above him, winking and winking
with all its might, as much as to say, "what a green-horn you are!"
and swore an oath that no fairy should ever henceforth have power over
his heart, till she who had so wantonly scorned and insulted him
should beg to be forgiven. As he was turning sadly away, to seek his
solitary chamber in the upper branch of a bachelor's button, on the
other side of the brook, the elf-clown Puck stood before him, looking
as demure as puss herself.

"Well, fool," said the knight, somewhat impatiently, "how long hast
thou been listening here?"

"As long as my ears, your worship," replied the urchin, undauntedly,
"and they were long enough to hear that your worship's valiancy is a
very much over-praised commodity--since a maiden's dainty veil of
knitted night-air has proved too strong for him.

The knight he sued, and the knight he sighed,
But he went away without supper or bride."

"Silence, imp! or I 'll make thine ears, of which thou hast had such
pestilent service, shorter by a span."

"No, I thank your valiancy! my ears do very well as they are. And I
came to do you a good turn by offering you the use of them. But as
your worship is so high and dry in Dundrum Bay, as we say at sea, I'll
e