pened to be the bell belonging to
the cap of one of the little brown ones, who had lost it while he was
dancing, and did not immediately miss it or observe that it was no
longer tinkling in his cap. He had gone down into the hill without his
bell, and, having discovered his loss, was filled with melancholy, for
the worst thing that can befall the underground people is to lose their
cap, or their shoes; but even to lose the bell from their caps, or the
buckle from their belts, is no trifle to them. Whoever loses his bell
must pass some sleepless nights, for not a wink of sleep can he get till
he has recovered it.

The little fellow was in the greatest trouble, and looked and searched
about everywhere. But how could he learn who had the bell? for only on a
very few days in the year may they come up to daylight, nor can they
then appear in their true form. He had turned himself into every form of
birds, beasts, and men, and he had sung and groaned and lamented about
his bell, but not the slightest tidings or trace of tidings had he been
able to get. Most unfortunately for him, the shepherd's boy had left
Patzig the very day he found the little bell, and he was now keeping
sheep at Unrich, near Gingst, so that it was not till many a day after,
and then by mere chance, that the little underground fellow recovered
his bell, and with it his peace of mind.

He had thought it not unlikely that a raven, or a crow, or a jackdaw, or
a magpie, had found his bell, and from its thievish disposition, which
attracts it to anything bright and shining, had carried it into its
nest. With this thought he turned himself into a beautiful little bird,
and searched all the nests in the island, and he'd sang before all kinds
of birds to see if they had found what he had lost, and could restore to
him his sleep. He had, however, been able to learn nothing from the
birds. As he now, one evening, was flying over the waters of Ralov and
the fields of Unrich, the shepherd's boy, whose name was John
Schlagenteufel (Smite-devil), happened to be keeping his sheep there at
the very time. Several of the sheep had bells about their necks, and
they tinkled merrily when the boy's dog set them trotting. The little
bird who was flying over them thought of his bell, and sang in a
melancholy tone----

"Little bell, little bell,
Little ram as well,
You, too, little sheep,
If you've my tingle too,
No sheep's so rich as you,
My rest you keep."

The bo