"The moon is full to-morrow," said one--("Then I have been a month down
here," thought Amelia; "it was full moon that night")--"shall we dance
in the Mary Meads?"

"By all means," said the old tinker dwarf; "and we will take Amelia,
and dance my dance."

"Is it safe?" said another.

"Look how content she is," said the old dwarf; "and, oh! how she
dances; my feet tickle at the bare thought."

"The ordinary run of mortals do not see us," continued the objector;
"but she is visible to any one. And there are men and women who wander
in the moonlight, and the Mary Meads are near her old home."

"I will make her a hat of touchwood," said the old dwarf, "so that even
if she is seen it will look like a will-o'-the-wisp bobbing up and
down. If she does not come, I will not. I must dance my dance. You do
not know what it is! We two alone move together with a grace which even
here is remarkable. But when I think that up yonder we shall have
attendant shadows echoing our movements, I long for the moment to
arrive."

"So be it," said the others; and Amelia wore the touchwood hat, and
went up with them to the Mary Meads.

Amelia and the dwarf danced the mazurka, and their shadows, now as
short as themselves, then long and gigantic, danced beside them. As the
moon went down, and the shadows lengthened, the dwarf was in raptures.

"When one sees how colossal one's very shadow is," he remarked, "one
knows one's true worth. You also have a good shadow. We are partners in
the dance, and I think we will be partners for life. But I have not
fully considered the matter, so this is not to be regarded as a formal
proposal." And he continued to dance, singing, "La, la, fa, la,
la, la, fa, la." It was highly admired.

The Mary Meads lay a little below the house where Amelia's parents
lived, and once during the night her father, who was watching by the
sick bed of the stock, looked out of the window.

"How lovely the moonlight is!" he murmured; "but, dear me! there is a
will-o'-the-wisp yonder. I had no idea the Mary Meads were so damp."
Then he pulled the blind down and went back into the room.

As for poor Amelia, she found no four-leaved clover, and at cockcrow
they all went underground.

"We will dance on Hunch Hill to-morrow," said the dwarfs.

All went as before; not a clover plant of any kind did Amelia see, and
at cockcrow the revel broke up.

On the following night they danced in the hayfield. The old stubble was
now