who could beat rat-tat-tat
so well; nor had she ever seen a lad who was so handsome while he was
asleep. "I kissed thee then," said she, and smiled up at him so
sorrowfully.

"Beware of the serpent's tongue, lest it bite thee, swain! Tis worst of
all when it licks thee first," whispered the bashful one with the
golden-red hair. She would fain have stolen between them so softly.

And all at once the swain recollected the snake, which was as slender,
and supple, and quick, and sparkling as the girl who lay there on the
hill-side, and wept and made fun at the same time and looked oddly alert
and wary.

But a stooping, somewhat clumsy little thing now stuck her head quickly
in between, and smiled shamefacedly at him, as if she knew and could
tell him so much. Her eyes sparkled a long way inwards, and across her
face there passed a sort of pale golden gleam, as when the last sunbeam
slowly draws away from the grassy mountain slope.

"At my place," said she, "thou shalt hear such _Langelejk_[1] as none
else has ever heard. I will play for thee, and thou shalt listen to
things unknown to others. Thou shalt hear all that sings, and laughs,
and cries in the roots of trees, and in the mountains, and in all things
that grow, so that thou wilt never trouble thy head about anything else
in the world."

Then there was a scornful laugh; and up on a rock he saw a tall strongly
built girl, with a gold band in her hair and a huge wand in her hand.

She lifted a long wooden trumpet with such splendid powerful arms, threw
back her neck with such a proud and resolute air, and stood firm and
fast as a rock while she blew.

And it sounded far and wide through the summer evening, and rang back
again across the hills.

But she, the prettiest and daintiest of them all, who had cast herself
on the ground, stuck her fingers in her ears, and mimicked her and
laughed and jeered.

Then she glanced up at him with her blue eyes peeping through her
ashen-yellow hair, and whispered---

"If thou dost want me, swain, thou must pick me up."

"She has a strong firm grip for a gentle maiden," thought he to himself,
as he raised her from the ground.

"But thou must catch me first," cried she.

And right towards the house they ran--she first, and he after her.

Suddenly she stopped short, and putting both arms akimbo, looked
straight into his eyes: "Dost like me?" she asked.

The swain couldn't say no to that. He had now got hold of her, and