a commotion in the sea, the waves
bubbled and bubbled like boiling water in a pot.

'Whence comes this gust of wind?' said Maie; and as she spoke the sea
opened and swallowed up the steamer. Maie sank to the bottom like a
stone, but, stretching out her arms and legs, she rose to the surface,
where she found the fiddler's fiddle, and used it as a float. At the
same moment she saw close beside her the terrible head of Ahti, and he
had only half a beard!

'Why did you throw stones at me?' roared the sea-king.

'Oh, your majesty, it was a mistake! Put some bear's grease on your
beard and that will soon make it grow again.'

'Dame, did I not give you all you asked for--nay, even more?'

'Truly, truly, your majesty. Many thanks for the cows.'

'Well, where is the gold from the sun and the silver from the moon that
you promised me?'

'Ah, your majesty, they have been scattered day and night upon the sea,
except when the sky was overcast,' slyly answered Maie.

'I'll teach you!' roared the sea-king; and with that he gave the fiddle
such a 'puff' that it sent the old woman up like a sky-rocket on to her
island. There Prince lay, as famished as ever, gnawing the carcase of a
crow. There sat Matte in his ragged grey jacket, quite alone, on the
steps of the old hut, mending a net.

'Heavens, mother,' said he, 'where are you coming from at such a
whirlwind pace, and what makes you in such a dripping condition?'

Maie looked around her amazed, and said, 'Where is our two-story house?'

'What house?' asked her husband.

'Our big house, and the flower garden, and the men and the maids, and
the thirty beautiful cows, and the steamer, and everything else?'

'You are talking nonsense, mother,' said he. 'The students have quite
turned your head, for you sang silly songs last evening while we were
rowing, and then you could not sleep till early morning. We had stormy
weather during the night, and when it was past I did not wish to waken
you, so rowed out alone to rescue the net.'

'But I've seen Ahti,' rejoined Maie.

'You've been lying in bed, dreaming foolish fancies, mother, and then in
your sleep you walked into the water.'

'But there is the fiddle,' said Maie.

'A fine fiddle! It is only an old stick. No, no, old woman, another time
we will be more careful. Good luck never attends fishing on a Sunday.'

From Z. Topelius.

_THE RASPBERRY WORM_

'PHEW!' cried Lisa.

'Ugh!' cried Aina.

'What now