Yea, mother, sellin' 'em e'en to the king and queen and all the
grand lords and ladies at the court, like old Farmer Hummidge."

For almost the first time in his life Jim was unhappy.

"I would you had your wish, Nimble Jim; but then we've a neat bit
garden besides the melons; and the home is snug, and you're a good boy
and the best o' cobblers. Can't you be happy with that, my lad?"

But Nimble Jim shook his head, for the spirit of discontent had taken
possession of him.

Now, for many days, Nimble Jim neglected his cobbling and let the
weeds grow in his garden, while he moodily watched his melons as they
withered away. Soon he came to idle about them in the evening, too,
until, one bright moonlight night, as he was grieving over the
wretched, scraggy vines, he heard a tiny, silvery voice quite near him
cry, tauntingly:

"Hello, Nimble Jim! How are your melons?"

Jim would have been very angry at such a question could he have seen
anybody to be angry with; but, though he looked and looked with all
his eyes, not a soul could he see.

"Hello, Nimble Jim! How are your melons? Ha, ha, ha! Melons! melons!
Ha, ha, ha!" And the sweet little voice sang, in a merry, mocking
strain:

"Nice sweet melons!
Round ripe melons!
Nimble Jim likes them, I know.
Mean sour melons,
Crooked green melons,
Nimble Jim only can grow!

Ha, ha, ha! How are your melons, Nimble Jim?"

[Illustration: The Elfin Queen]

"Who are you? What are you? Where are you?" cried Jim, hardly knowing
whether to be angry, amused, or frightened.

"You ask a good many questions at once, don't you?" said the silvery
voice. "_Who_ am I? _What_ am I? _Where_ am I? Eh! I'm the Queen of
the Elfs," said her tiny majesty, "and if you look sharply you'll see
where I am."

Just then a moonbeam streaming through the trees overhead fell across
his path, and, dancing up and down on it, he saw the tiny elfin
queen,--a lovely little creature with long, bright, wavy hair, and
glittering garments fluttering in the breeze, wings like a butterfly,
a mischievous smile on her face, and in her hand a wee wand tipped
with a star. But the brightest thing about her was the twinkle that
played hide-and-seek in her eye.

Nimble Jim took off his hat and made a low bow.

"Now, what is all this about?--and why are you neglecting your work,
sir?" demanded she, sternly.

Jim trembled beneath her royal gaze, little as she was, and replied
humbly: