own-up questions, or laugh at the donkey's head, but lay and smiled
to himself in the most sensible way. 'Have you a knife on you?' he said
at last.

Dan handed over his big one-bladed outdoor knife, and Puck began to
carve out a piece of turf from the centre of the Ring.

'What's that for--Magic?' said Una, as he pressed up the square of
chocolate loam that cut like so much cheese.

'One of my little magics,' he answered, and cut another. 'You see, I
can't let you into the Hills because the People of the Hills have gone;
but if you care to take seisin from me, I may be able to show you
something out of the common here on Human Earth. You certainly deserve
it.'

'What's taking seisin?' said Dan, cautiously.

'It's an old custom the people had when they bought and sold land.
They used to cut out a clod and hand it over to the buyer, and you
weren't lawfully seised of your land--it didn't really belong to
you--till the other fellow had actually given you a piece of it--'like
this.' He held out the turves.

'But it's our own meadow,' said Dan, drawing back. 'Are you going to
magic it away?'

Puck laughed. 'I know it's your meadow, but there's a great deal more
in it than you or your father ever guessed. Try!'

He turned his eyes on Una.

'I'll do it,' she said. Dan followed her example at once.

'Now are you two lawfully seised and possessed of all Old England,'
began Puck, in a sing-song voice. 'By right of Oak, Ash, and Thorn are
you free to come and go and look and know where I shall show or best
you please. You shall see What you shall see and you shall hear What
you shall hear, though It shall have happened three thousand year; and
you shall know neither Doubt nor Fear. Fast! Hold fast all I give
you.'

The children shut their eyes, but nothing happened.

'Well?' said Una, disappointedly opening them. 'I thought there would
be dragons.'

"'Though It shall have happened three thousand year,"' said Puck, and
counted on his fingers. 'No; I'm afraid there were no dragons three
thousand years ago.'

'But there hasn't happened anything at all,' said Dan. 'Wait awhile,'
said Puck. 'You don't grow an oak in a year--and Old England's older
than twenty oaks. Let's sit down again and think. I can do that for a
century at a time.'

'Ah, but you're a fairy,' said Dan.

'Have you ever heard me say that word yet?' said Puck quickly.

'No. You talk about "the People of the Hills", but you never s