the foot and giving its owner a fall,
upon which he never, on that occasion, renewed his attempt.

But the little people were constantly doing and saying things that
pleased, often things that surprised me. Every day I grew more loath
to leave them. While I was at work, they would keep coming and going,
amusing and delighting me, and taking all the misery, and much of the
weariness out of my monotonous toil. Very soon I loved them more than
I can tell. They did not know much, but they were very wise, and seemed
capable of learning anything. I had no bed save the bare ground, but
almost as often as I woke, it was in a nest of children--one or other of
them in my arms, though which I seldom could tell until the light came,
for they ordered the succession among themselves. When one crept into my
bosom, unconsciously I clasped him there, and the rest lay close around
me, the smaller nearer. It is hardly necessary to say that I did not
suffer much from the nightly cold! The first thing they did in the
morning, and the last before sunset, was to bring the good giant plenty
to eat.

One morning I was surprised on waking to find myself alone. As I came
to my senses, however, I heard subdued sounds of approach, and presently
the girl already mentioned, the tallest and gravest of the community,
and regarded by all as their mother, appeared from the wood, followed by
the multitude in jubilation manifest--but silent lest they should rouse
the sleeping giant at whose door I lay. She carried a boy-baby in her
arms: hitherto a girl-baby, apparently about a year old, had been the
youngest. Three of the bigger girls were her nurses, but they shared
their treasure with all the rest. Among the Little Ones, dolls were
unknown; the bigger had the smaller, and the smaller the still less, to
tend and play with.

Lona came to me and laid the infant in my arms. The baby opened his eyes
and looked at me, closed them again, and fell asleep.

"He loves you already!" said the girl.

"Where did you find him?" I asked.

"In the wood, of course," she answered, her eyes beaming with delight,
"--where we always find them. Isn't he a beauty? We've been out all
night looking for him. Sometimes it is not easy to find!"

"How do you know when there is one to find?" I asked.

"I cannot tell," she replied. "Every one makes haste to tell the other,
but we never find out who told first. Sometimes I think one must have
said it asleep, and another heard