THE GIFTS OF THE DWARFS.

A GREAT many years ago there lived an old man in a village, who, with his wife, used to go, year in and year out, to work for other people, and thus earn their living. Benedict was the poorest man in the village, but what was denied him in worldly goods was amply made up to him in two other endowments, one of which was very desirable and the other as undesirable; namely, he had a very excellent heart, and a terrible hump on his back. The first gained him many friends, and endeared him to every body, but by reason of the latter he often had to endure the unfeeling iests of the idle vagabonds of the streets. And indeed this hump was a little too big, for if Benedict wished to sit down, he must either take a chair without a back, or else let himself down

flat on the floor, because this burdensome embellishment of his was for ever in the way. Even his wife, who loved him dearly, and who before their marriage never thought any thing at all about the hump, in the course of a year began to think it was rather uncomely, and she would often say: "Ah! dear Benedict, how handsome you would be, if your back was a little more slender! I believe you would be the handsomest man in the whole village."

This observation Benedict had to hear repeated one day when he was returning with his wife from their day's labor.

They had been turning hay for a rich neighbor, and as they were not lazy hirelings, who ran away from their work as soon as the prayer-bell sounded, but were willing to labor till their work was done, they came home unusually late. The meadows in which they had been at work lay a long distance from the village. The stars already twinkled high in heaven, and the night was far advanced. Benedict must cross a wide heath, which was not considered safe by night. But he had never done harm to man or beast, and so he had a clear conscience, and was afraid of nothing.

"Come, Lisette," said he, "let's make haste, and get over the heath as soon as possible, for wicked dwarfs live there, who compel belated wanderers to dance till their breath gives out, and they are found the next morning lying dead in the open air."

They walked hastily on. But when they came to the middle of the heath, where a great quantity of stone blocks were lying about, among which the dwarfs dwell, a long row of little kobolds rushed out upon them. Some of them carried great horns on which they blew, and the others, with hands joined, danced about, forming a great circle around Benedict and his wife, whom they thus inclosed in their midst.

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Alackaday!" cried Benedict to his wife, “we are lost! If the dwarfs force us to dance, it

is all over with us."

Dame Lisette clung tightly to her husband, and could not speak for terror.

The dwarfs were actually making preparation to force the good people to dance. But they had no sooner approached Benedict than they started back with a loud shriek, and cried in a singing

tone:

"Let him go, let him go,

The sickle protects him;

Ah! the sickle protects him,

Safe, away let him go."

"Aha!" thought Benedict, "they are afraid of the sickle. In my whole life I never thought that that thing was of any other use than to cut grass."

He drew his wife hastily along with him, and they soon reached their home in safety. But all night his thoughts were very busy. He thought about the hump which his wife had to-day for the third time found so ugly, and about the dwarfs who understood so many arts, and who were so afraid of his sickle. He said not a word, but in the morning, when he got up, he thought, "I know what I will do."

At evening, he contrived it so that he should go home alone. He waited till the stars glistened in the sky, like millions of precious gems, and nobody dared at that late hour to go near the heath. Then he took his sickle in his hand and went straight to the heath.

The dwarfs saw him coming, when he was a good way off, and they called out in a friendly "See! there comes Benedict! "9

way,

"Yes," answered Benedict, "now I know that you live in my neighborhood, I have come to pay you a visit."

"That is brave," cried the dwarfs. "Will you dance a little with us?"

"Do not take it ill, dear little people, but I am very short-breathed, and I could not hold out long."

"We will stop as soon as you say so."

"Will you promise me that?" said Benedict, who thought it would be no harm to have one round with them, for the sake of getting into their good graces.

"We promise it," answered the little people. "Swear it by my sickle!"

"We swear it by your sickle."

Benedict trusted the little people, stepped into the ring, and the dance began.

The dwarfs sang as they danced, but it was always the same thing over and over again:—

Monday, Tuesday, Wed-nes-day,

Monday, Tuesday, Wed-nes-day."

Benedict bore this for a while, then he stood still and said: "All due deference to you, little

people, but your song is horribly monotonous;