te pastimes were
climbing and jumping, and arranging grand water-parties in
nutshells upon the brook which ran through their country. At other
times they would play at Hunt-the-hare with the Grasshoppers and
May-beetles, and dance the most graceful dances to the song of the
Birds: nor must it be forgotten that they understood the language
of all living creatures.

Two festivals in the year gave the little Rootmen especial delight.
On certain days in Spring and Autumn there arrived large troops of
merry guests, who were hospitably welcomed and entertained, and who
in return used to tell the inquisitive little people what was
passing in the world without.

These guests were no other than the thousands and thousands of
Birds of Passage, who in Spring came from the South, and in Autumn
from the North. The Storks told their village stories, the Swallows
twittered their fairy-tales, and the Nightingales brought with them
new and beautiful songs. There came frequently too a troop of
migrating Rats, who gave descriptions of their travels, while
Magpies and Ravens told legends and tales of marvel that made one
shudder. In this manner the little Rootmen received constantly news
of the whole wide world. Such stories of course filled them with
curiosity to make acquaintance with Men, but an innate feeling of
dread prevented the little beings from quitting their peaceful
Valley.

Now one time there reigned over this people a dear good old King,
who had one daughter, a very beautiful Princess; she was however
more full of curiosity than all other maidens in the world, nay
even more so indeed than her own little countrywomen. Her longing
to see Men and Women in the world without, of whom she had heard so
many wonderful things, had grown very strong. The good old King did
all in his power to dissuade her from this wish, representing Men
as fierce and selfish giants: "No living creature," said he, "is
secure from their mastery; the biggest elephant is obliged to dance
to their will, as well as the smallest flea." But all was of no
avail; his daughter had taken it into her head to visit the world,
and go she would. The thought of this preyed upon her mind, and she
grew more and more melancholy and thin; until at length the King
resolved to grant her wish, in the hope that the sight would
frighten her for ever, and drive away her curiosity.

A beautiful new Birds'-nest was therefore immediately selected,
cushioned with feathers and