him, began to shake their heads; for as
he grew older it became apparent that his tongue was tied, seeing that
he remained quite dumb in spite of all that was done to teach him; and
his head was full of moonshine, so that he could understand nothing
clearly by day--only as night came on his wits gathered, and he seemed
to find a meaning for things. And some said it was his mother's fault,
and some that it was his father's, and some that he was a changeling
sent by the fairies, and that the real child had been taken to share
his father's bondage. But which of these things was true Little Toonie
himself had no idea.

After a time Little Toonie began to grow big, as is the way with
children, and at last he became bigger than ever old Toonie had been.
But folk still called him Little Toonie, because his head was so full
of moonshine; and his mother, finding he was no good to her, sold him
to the farmer, by whom, since he had no wits for anything better, he was
set to pull at waggon and plough just as if he were a cart-horse; and,
indeed, he was almost as strong as one. To make him work, carter and
ploughman used to crack their whips over his back; and Little Toonie
took it as the most natural thing in the world, because his brain was
full of moonshine, so that he understood nothing clearly by day.

But at night he would lie in his stable among the horses, and wonder
about the moonlight that stretched wide over all the world and lay free
on the bare tops of the hills; and he thought--would it not be good to
be there all alone, with the moonbeams laying their white hands down on
his head? And so it came that one night, finding the door of his stable
unlocked, he ran out into the open world a free man.

A soft wind breathed at large, and swung slowly in the black-silver
treetops. Over them Little Toonie could see the quiet slopes of Drundle
Head, asleep in the moonlight.

Before long, following the lead of his eyes, he had come to the bottom
of the ascent. There before him went walking a little shrivelled elderly
man, looking to right and left as if uncertain of the road.

As Little Toonie drew near, the other one turned and spoke. "Can you
tell me," said he, "if this be the way to the fairies?"

Little Toonie had no tongue to give an answer; so, looking at his
questioner, he wagged his head and went on.

Quickening his pace, the old man came alongside and began peering; then
he smiled to himself, and after a bit spoke