nd a little drinking-cup. In the pocket the Motherkin
placed a few coins, and then assured Laura that there was but one thing
needed.

"And what is that, dear Motherkin?" asked Laura.

"I will show you," was the reply.

"Grim! Grim!" called the Motherkin to the dwarf, who was sunning himself
out-of-doors.

"Yes, madam," said Grim, hurriedly stirring himself.

"Do you think you can cut me a good stout staff for Lady Laura, without
any injury to your lame ankle?"

"Of course, madam, of course. What wood shall it be?"

"Of wood that shall serve her well--you know their qualities even better
than I; and whether it be ash or birch, you can get the elves to charm
it, that it may have the power to guide her aright."

Grim hobbled off in haste, and was soon seen emerging from the forest
with the charmed staff in his hand. It was a light, pretty stick, and
the Motherkin bade Laura be very careful not to lose it, as it could not
be replaced by any ordinary wood.

"And now, my child, you are ready. I will conduct you to the path on
which you set forth. You are to follow it all day, wherever it may lead;
at night you are to sleep beneath the canopy of heaven; but have no
fears: we guard you. In the morning place your staff in your hand,
penetrate the forest by which you will be surrounded, and the staff
will guide you to the bed of a mountain stream; follow it patiently
until the rocks become precipitous, then climb the bank towards which
your staff will incline; this will bring you to the summit of the hills,
in one of the valleys of which dwell the children you seek. Constantly
allow yourself to be guided by your staff; it will very gently but very
surely determine your path. Let no song of birds or murmur of bees, no
fragrance of flowers nor music of brooks, detain you; do not linger.
Hasten on, and you shall be guided going and coming."

"And the children--what am I to do for them?" asked Laura.

"Give them the clothes, food, and wine, and such assistance as your
heart may suggest."

"But am I to leave them alone to suffer again when that which I carry to
them is gone?"

"No; you are to do all in your power for the present, and leave the
future to me."

"Ah, how I wish I could take them to my home in the castle, and share
all my comforts and pleasures with them! I would teach them, and they
should teach me, and we should be so happy together. Ah, please, dear
Motherkin, let me; urge my mamma, beg her to let me