So Thistle closed his eyes, and listened to the murmur of the sea,
as they sank slowly through the waves. The soft sound lulled him
to sleep, and when he awoke the boat was gone, and he stood among
the Water Spirits, in their strange and lovely home.

Lofty arches of snow-white coral bent above him, and the walls
of brightly tinted shells were wreathed with lovely sea-flowers, and
the sunlight shining on the waves cast silvery shadows on the ground,
where sparkling stones glowed in the sand. A cool, fresh wind swept
through the waving garlands of bright sea-moss, and the distant murmur
of dashing waves came softly on the air. Soon troops of graceful
Spirits flitted by, and when they found the wondering Elf, they
gathered round him, bringing pearl-shells heaped with precious stones,
and all the rare, strange gifts that lie beneath the sea. But Thistle
wished for none of these, and when his tale was told, the kindly
Spirits pitied him; and little Pearl sighed, as she told him of the
long and weary task he must perform, ere he could win a crown of
snow-white pearls like those they wore. But Thistle had gained
strength and courage in his wanderings, and did not falter now, when
they led him to a place among the coral-workers, and told him he must
labor here, till the spreading branches reached the light and air,
through the waves that danced above.

With a patient hope that he might yet be worthy of Lily-Bell,
the Fairy left the lovely spirits and their pleasant home, to toil
among the coral-builders, where all was strange and dim. Long, long,
he worked; but still the waves rolled far above them, and his task was
not yet done; and many bitter tears poor Thistle shed, and sadly he
pined for air and sunlight, the voice of birds, and breath of flowers.
Often, folded in the magic garments which the Spirits gave him, that
he might pass unharmed among the fearful creatures dwelling there,
he rose to the surface of the sea, and, gliding through the waves,
gazed longingly upon the hills, now looking blue and dim so far away,
or watched the flocks of summer birds, journeying to a warmer land;
and they brought sad memories of green old forests, and sunny fields,
to the lonely little Fairy floating on the great, wild sea.

Day after day went by, and slowly Thistle's task drew towards an end.
Busily toiled the coral-workers, but more busily toiled he; insect
and Spirit daily wondered more and more, at the industry and patience