at ease, and gave them to the
ladies to hold. But their father, the old goblin, was very
different; he talked pleasantly about the stately Norwegian rocks, and
told fine tales of the waterfalls which dashed over them with a
clattering noise like thunder or the sound of an organ, spreading
their white foam on every side. He told of the salmon that leaps in
the rushing waters, while the water-god plays on his golden harp. He
spoke of the bright winter nights, when the sledge bells are
ringing, and the boys run with burning torches across the smooth
ice, which is so transparent that they can see the fishes dart forward
beneath their feet. He described everything so clearly, that those who
listened could see it all; they could see the saw-mills going, the
men-servants and the maidens singing songs, and dancing a rattling
dance,--when all at once the old goblin gave the old elfin maiden a
kiss, such a tremendous kiss, and yet they were almost strangers to
each other.

Then the elfin girls had to dance, first in the usual way, and
then with stamping feet, which they performed very well; then followed
the artistic and solo dance. Dear me, how they did throw their legs
about! No one could tell where the dance begun, or where it ended, nor
indeed which were legs and which were arms, for they were all flying
about together, like the shavings in a saw-pit! And then they spun
round so quickly that the death-horse and the grave-pig became sick
and giddy, and were obliged to leave the table.

"Stop!" cried the old goblin, "is that the only house-keeping they
can perform? Can they do anything more than dance and throw about
their legs, and make a whirlwind?"

"You shall soon see what they can do," said the elf king. And then
he called his youngest daughter to him. She was slender and fair as
moonlight, and the most graceful of all the sisters. She took a
white chip in her mouth, and vanished instantly; this was her
accomplishment. But the old goblin said he should not like his wife to
have such an accomplishment, and thought his boys would have the
same objection. Another daughter could make a figure like herself
follow her, as if she had a shadow, which none of the goblin folk ever
had. The third was of quite a different sort; she had learnt in the
brew-house of the moor witch how to lard elfin puddings with
glow-worms.

"She will make a good housewife," said the old goblin, and then
saluted her with his eyes instead of drinki