ked up what in colour and shape resembled a blue harebell, or, as it
is called, _Fairy's hat_; only, where the stalk should have been, there
was a so small and elegantly-wrought little silver bell, that Maud could
not help laughing outright.

"'Bless me!' she exclaimed, 'who can have made that comical thing?' and
thereupon she shook the flower, and the wee little bell began to sound
so prodigiously clear, that the poor damsel let it fall, affrighted.

"'What are thy commands?' asked immediately a slender bright voice.
Before her stood a delicate creature, not higher than her hand; but of a
symmetry of person that was perfectly astonishing. His small expressive
head, round which a grove of curls, like crisped sunbeams, played, was
just of a size, that the flower with the wondrous bell served it for a
covering. For Maud saw how he put on the sparkling hat with much
gravity, and at the same time, very knowingly, giving himself a right
bold and dandy appearance.

"'What are you then?' asked Maud trembling.

"The little fellow made a smart bow, 'Thy servant, with thy good leave,'
replied the strange being. 'I and my people have known thee a long time.
We have heard thy complainings; and because thou hast a kind heart, and
lovest the flowers, and dost not wantonly pull them to pieces, am I
charged to do thee a pleasure, provided thou wilt do the like for me and
my people.'

"'Indeed! you pretty little original!' answered Maud, 'who are thy
people? I'----

"'Hush!' interrupted the little one, with a repelling gesture of the
hand and a very impressive contraction of the brow. 'These are questions
which I cannot answer, and, what is more, cannot suffer. It is not civil
to put questions of the WHENCE and the WHAT. If thou wilt trust me, and
I should think that I have the air of a proper gentleman, then resolve
without delay whether thou wilt do me a pleasure for a reasonable
compensation.'

"'Dear little sir!' replied Maud, overcome, 'I am not mistrustful, but
so beset and afflicted that I really do not know how I am to understand
this strange business. Do not make sport of me, good child; or, if thou
art a spirit, I beseech thee have compassion on me, and let me go my way
in peace. My father is waiting for me. His little bit of dinner is
drying in the heat of the sun.'

"'Silly prattle!' interrupted the little one. 'Thy old father lies under
the rock side, and snores till the fern leaves waggle over him. The good
man's