rom the
little tinker's skill to Amelia's mamma's acquaintance in this matter.

"Have I any other tasks?" Amelia inquired.

"One more," said the dwarfs; and she was led farther on to a smooth
mossy green, thickly covered with what looked like bits of broken
thread. One would think it had been a milliner's work-room from the
first invention of needles and thread.

"What are these?" Amelia asked.

"They are the broken threads of all the conversations you have
interrupted," was the reply; "and pretty dangerous work it is to dance
here now, with threads getting round one's shoe-points. Dance a
hornpipe in a herring-net, and you'll know what it is!"

Amelia began to pick up the threads, but it was tedious work. She had
cleared a yard or two, and her back was aching terribly, when she heard
the fiddle and the mazurka behind her; and looking round she saw the
old dwarf, who was playing away, and making the most hideous grimaces
as his chin pressed the violin.

"Dance, my lady, dance!" he shouted.

"I do not think I can," said Amelia; "I am so weary with stooping over
my work."

"Then rest a few minutes," he answered, "and I will play you a jig. A
jig is a beautiful dance, such life, such spirit! So!"

And he played faster and faster, his arm, his face, his fiddle-bow all
seemed working together; and as he played, the threads danced
themselves into three heaps.

"That is not bad, is it?" said the dwarf; "and now for our own dance,"
and he played the mazurka. "Get the measure well into your head. La, la
fa la! la, la fa la! So!"

And throwing away his fiddle, he caught Amelia round the waist, and
they danced as before. After which, she had no difficulty in putting
the three heaps of thread into a basket.

"Where are these to be kicked to?" asked the young goblins.

"To the four winds of heaven," said the old dwarf. "There are very few
drawing-room conversations worth putting together a second time. They
are not like old china bowls."

BY MOONLIGHT.

Thus Amelia's tasks were ended; but not a word was said of her return
home. The dwarfs were now very kind, and made so much of her that it
was evident that they meant her to remain with them. Amelia often
cooked for them, and she danced and played with them, and never showed
a sign of discontent; but her heart ached for home, and when she was
alone she would bury her face in the flowers and cry for her mother.

One day she overheard the dwarfs in consultation.