knew not; she slept as soundly and as safely as if in her own carefully
watched nest in the castle. When she awoke, the sun was rising, birds
were singing, and every blade of grass twinkled with dew-drops. After
her morning prayer of thanks for the night's rest, a dip into the brook
close by, and a little shake and jump by way of dressing, she sat down
to her breakfast of oat-cake.

[Illustration: "SHE SAW A QUEER LITTLE FIGURE MAKING GRIMACES AT HER."]

As she munched it in leisurely fashion, wishing for some honey, she
thought she saw a queer little figure making grimaces at her. It was an
odd little creature, with a rabbit-skin so thrown over him that she
fancied it might, after all, be only a bunny out in search of breakfast.

"Good-morning, my dear, good-morning! So you wish you had some honey, do
you?" said the queer little creature.

Laura laughed out in surprise. "How do you know?" she asked.

"How do I know anything, Miss Rudeness? By my wits, to be sure."

"Oh, I beg your pardon," said Laura, conscious at once of having
offended; "but I did not know I had spoken aloud."

"Nor did I; we people of the woods do not wait to be spoken to--we are
wiser than you. But do you really want some honey? If so, come with me
and I will show you where you can find it."

"But who are you? I never saw you before," said Laura, forgetting that
the little creature had already shown himself to be easily angered.

"Who am I? What difference is that to you?" said the queer little
object. "Honey is honey; if you want some, come with me; if you don't,
stay where you are."

"Oh, really," said Laura; "you are very kind. I do like honey, and it
would be very nice with my dry oat-cake;" and, forgetting her staff, she
followed the elf into the woods. He led her to a hollow tree, and,
flinging his rabbit-skin away, clambered into the cavity, and came out
with a great mass of glistening honey dripping from its white comb.

"Here; now let me see you eat it," said the elf, putting on his
rabbit-skin again, and laying the honey-comb on a broad leaf at her
feet. Laura sat down and dipped her oat-cake into the honey.

"It is delicious," said Laura. "Won't you have some?"

"I? No, indeed," said the elf, standing off and gazing at her curiously
from beneath his bushy little eyebrows.

"Don't you care for it?"

"No; I'd rather sharpen my teeth on an acorn."

"But that is so bitter."

"It suits my digestion. I am a planter of bitt