s daughter must be invited first, although it may not be
agreeable to them to remain so long on dry land, but they shall have a
wet stone to sit on, or perhaps something better; so I think they will
not refuse this time. We must have all the old demons of the first
class, with tails, and the hobgoblins and imps; and then I think we
ought not to leave out the death-horse, or the grave-pig, or even
the church dwarf, although they do belong to the clergy, and are not
reckoned among our people; but that is merely their office, they are
nearly related to us, and visit us very frequently."

"Croak," said the night-raven as he flew away with the
invitations.

The elfin maidens we're already dancing on the elf hill, and
they danced in shawls woven from moonshine and mist, which look very
pretty to those who like such things. The large hall within the elf
hill was splendidly decorated; the floor had been washed with
moonshine, and the walls had been rubbed with magic ointment, so
that they glowed like tulip-leaves in the light. In the kitchen were
frogs roasting on the spit, and dishes preparing of snail skins,
with children's fingers in them, salad of mushroom seed, hemlock,
noses and marrow of mice, beer from the marsh woman's brewery, and
sparkling salt-petre wine from the grave cellars. These were all
substantial food. Rusty nails and church-window glass formed the
dessert. The old elf king had his gold crown polished up with powdered
slate-pencil; it was like that used by the first form, and very
difficult for an elf king to obtain. In the bedrooms, curtains were
hung up and fastened with the slime of snails; there was, indeed, a
buzzing and humming everywhere.

"Now we must fumigate the place with burnt horse-hair and pig's
bristles, and then I think I shall have done my part," said the elf
man-servant.

"Father, dear," said the youngest daughter, "may I now hear who
our high-born visitors are?"

"Well, I suppose I must tell you now," he replied; "two of my
daughters must prepare themselves to be married, for the marriages
certainly will take place. The old goblin from Norway, who lives in
the ancient Dovre mountains, and who possesses many castles built of
rock and freestone, besides a gold mine, which is better than all,
so it is thought, is coming with his two sons, who are both seeking
a wife. The old goblin is a true-hearted, honest, old Norwegian
graybeard; cheerful and straightforward. I knew him formerly, wh