bow.

"Oh, you do! Pray, whom for?"

"For my dear mother, who is lying very ill at home."

"Oh, well you look like a tolerably good boy, and I believe I will
permit you to go, under certain conditions. I am a _genie_; so, you see,
I could cook and eat you, if I liked. You must reap all my wheat,
thrash out the grains, grind them into flour, and knead the flour into
loaves, and bake them. You will find all the tools you want in the cave.
When all is done, you can call me; but till you have finished, you shall
not stir a step." So saying, he disappeared in a streak of blue smoke.

Mark had listened in terror, and, when the _genie_ was out of sight, he
looked all round him. On every side were immense fields of wheat. He
raised his arms, then dropped them in despair, and, covering his face
with his hands, cried out, "Oh, fairy Benevolence, come and help me!"

"Go to work, Mark," said a soft voice close to his ear.

Mark, upon this, took up a scythe and began to cut the wheat. This took
five times twenty-one days; four times twenty-one days were spent in
thrashing the grain; three times twenty-one days in grinding it into
flour; and twice twenty-one days in making it into loaves, and baking
them.

As fast as the loaves were taken out of the oven, they arranged
themselves in even rows, like books on the shelves.

When all was done, Mark called the _genie_, saying, "Here they are, sir,
smoking hot."

The little man appeared immediately, and counted them--five hundred
thousand loaves. He tasted a bit from the first and last loaf, smacked
his lips, and said they were "prime." Then he took a snuff box from his
pocket, and said to Mark, "Here, take this, and when you return home,
you will find it filled with a new kind of snuff."

Mark thanked the _genie_, who immediately disappeared in a streak of
brown smoke.

He went on climbing the mountain, but had not got far, when he came
suddenly upon a giant sitting at the mouth of a cave. He seemed a jolly,
good-natured old fellow, with a pipe, and a bundle of cigars, and a bag
of money on a sort of table before him.

Mark was not very much afraid of him, and, making a low bow, said,
"Please, sir, tell me if I am near the place where the plant of life
grows."

"It is not very far off, youngster; but you don't stir a step farther,
until you gather all my grapes, and make wine of them. So be in a
hurry."

Poor little Mark! He looked round and saw grape vines, with the fru