y lamplight like a million stars.

These gnomes led, for the most part, rather dull lives. Like their
cousins, the water-sprites, or undines, they were roguish and shrewd,
but had no higher views of life than our katydids and crickets.
Indeed, they hardly cared for any thing but frisking about, eating
and sleeping. But, after all, what can be expected of creatures
without souls? One sees, now and then, stupid human beings, whose eyes
have no thoughts in them, and whose souls seem to be sound asleep.
Such lumps of dulness might almost as well be gnomes, and slip into
the earth and have done with it.

These underground folk had a great horror of our world. They knew all
about it; for one of them had peeped out and taken a bird's-eye view.
He went up very bravely, but hurried back with such strange accounts,
that his friends considered him a little insane.

"Listen!" said the gnome, whose name was Clod. "The earth has a soft
carpet, of a new kind of emerald; overhead is a blue roof, made of
turquoise; but I am told that there is a crack in it, and sometimes
water comes pouring down in torrents. But the worst plague of all is
a great glaring eye-ball of fire, which mortals call the sun."

When Clod told his stories of the earth, he always ended by saying,--

"Believe me, it is bad luck to have the sun shine on you. It nearly
put my eyes out; and I have had the headache ever since."

Now, there was a young girl, named Moneta, who listened very eagerly
to the old gnome's stories of the earth, and thought she would like to
see it for herself. She was a kind little maiden, as playful as a
kitten; and her friends were not willing she should go. But Moneta had
somewhere heard that fairies who marry mortals receive the gift of a
human soul: so, in spite of all objections, she was resolved to take
the journey; for she had in her dark mind some vague aspirations after
a higher state of being.

Then the gnome-family declared, that, if she once went away, they
would never allow her to return; for they highly disapproved of
running backward and forward between the two worlds, gossiping.

"Have you no love of country," cried they, "that you would willingly
cast your lot among silly creatures who look down upon your race?"

The old gnome, who had travelled, took the romantic maiden one side,
and said,--

"My dear Moneta, since you _will_ go, I must tell you a secret; for
you remember I have seen the world, and know all about i