Part 10 (2/2)

He stared and stared at what he saw. For the young woodcutter was returning in his fine clothes, and with him was a fair maiden, also in holiday gear. Both looked very happy and smiling.

They entered the open door, and the Old Gnome watched to see David's surprise when he should discover how matters had improved in his absence. But the woodman was thinking so much about his pretty new wife that he had eyes for nothing else. However, she looked about her with surprise and pleasure, and the Old Gnome heard her say to her husband,--

”Ah, David! What a tidy housekeeper you are! Or is it some Fairy who has made the house so neat and ready for me? Surely, no one but a beautiful, kind Fairy would sweep the floor so spotless and make so smooth the bed.

Oh, I am glad we have a Fairy friend!”

What David replied the Old Gnome did not hear. He was filled with wondering delight. A Fairy! The sweet little thing had thought it must be a beautiful Fairy who had done this work! The Old Gnome looked whimsically down at his bandy legs and ugly body, and sighed and smiled.

”Ah, if I were but a Fairy!” he said. ”Fairies are beautiful and good; they live forever young and gay, and there is no end to the kindness they may do. But I!”--he sighed again,--”a Fairy, indeed!” And he hobbled away to his cell, thinking kindly of the little wife who of all the world had spoken the first word of praise for him; and of the strong young man who loved her.

Now happy days followed in the little house in the Ancient Wood; happy days, too, for the Old Gnome in his hermit's cell. For he was busy all the time doing kind deeds for his new neighbors; without their knowing it. Sometimes he set the table for the morning meal. Sometimes he helped in the churning and made the b.u.t.ter come quickly. Sometimes he blew the fire like a little bellows; a hundred and one things he found to do about the cottage. And it was his reward to hear the young wife say,--”Oh! David, the good Fairy has been here again. What a dear, good, beautiful Fairy it must be!”

The Old Gnome was very careful to keep his ugly face out of sight, you may be sure.

Days went by, and the Old Gnome was ever more and more busy in the hut of the young people, so that really I do not know how they would have done without him. He was scarcely ever in the hermitage nowadays, except for a few hours' sleep by daylight; and he scarcely found time to look after his own affairs, such as they were, so little of a hermit was he become! But every night the young wife set out a bowl of curds and cream for the beautiful Fairy who helped her; and sometimes David left half his luncheon of bread and cheese in the woods, for his unknown friend.

The Old Gnome was growing fat and merry because of this good fare; but he seemed as little like a Fairy as ever.

The months went by; and one day a surprising thing happened. The Old Gnome, sleeping in his hammock, was wakened by a strange, shrill little cry. He sat up and listened wonderingly. It was broad daylight, but at the risk of being seen he ran as fast as he could, and climbing up the vine of eglantine peered in at the chamber window whence came the cry.

And there lying on the young wife's bed was a wee pink baby! The Old Gnome looked at it long and earnestly; and the more he peered the more he liked the look of this newest little neighbor.

”It is as beautiful as a Fairy!” he thought. ”I must be good to it, and perhaps it will grow to love me.”

From that time the Old Gnome had no rest at all. Unseen--wrapped in a cloak of shadows--he sat for hours while the baby was asleep, fanning the flies away from its little face. When it was restless, he kept the clothes over its tiny feet, drawing them up as fast as the baby kicked them away. And when the young wife came, she would say,

”See, David! Our Fairy has been watching over our baby, just as it watched over us. Oh, now I feel quite safe from those wicked Gnomes who live in the Great Fear!” At this the Old Gnome would chuckle from the corner where he lurked, and where only the baby's bright eyes could pierce the cloak of shadows. It was a great day for the Old Gnome when first the baby smiled at him. It was a still greater day when she held out her little arms to him, and the Old One knew that they were friends.

Soon she was lisping words in her shrill voice; and one of the first things she tried to say was ”Fairy friend.” She looked straight at the Old Gnome when she did it, and a thrill went through him at the words.

She saw him; yet she thought he was a Fairy! Poor little mite! He dreaded the day when she should know the difference. But the baby seemed to love him more and more every day, and the Old Gnome's cell became her favorite playhouse.

When she grew old enough to talk, she and her mother spoke often of the Fairy friend; and the little girl told strange tales of his doings when no one but herself was about, for still he shyly crept into his cloak of shadows when the grown-up folk were near. When the mother asked what like the Fairy was, she shook her head. ”I cannot tell!” she would answer. ”Not like you, Mother dear; but beautiful also, and good and merry.”

Now, the woodcutter's wife was a very good woman, but she was curious.

The more she heard about the friendly, mysterious Fairy whom her child alone had seen, the more she longed to see him for herself. This was not kind; for she knew he did not wish to be seen. But she was sorely tempted. One day she heard the little one out in the Ancient Wood laughing and talking merrily with some one. ”It is the Fairy!” said the mother, and she picked up her toes and crept noiselessly to spy upon them.

There was the baby sitting on a bed of moss; and there, plainly seen without his shadow-cloak, was the Old Gnome, turning somersaults for her and dancing on his crooked legs to make her laugh.

But the mother did not laugh at what she saw! She burst out of the bushes with a cry and seized the baby in her arms. ”My child!” she screamed. ”Oh, the wicked Gnome! Help, David, help!”

Her cry summoned the woodcutter, who came running up, very pale, with his axe in his hand. ”What is this?” he asked. ”Who is injuring my child?”

Sobbing, his wife pointed to where the Old Gnome cowered, blinking, caught at last in the sunlight outside his cell.

”A Gnome!” cried David in horror. ”One of the pests from the Great Fear!

What are you doing here, Monster? How shall we pay you to go away and leave us in peace?”

”I will go away,” said the Old Gnome humbly, ”though I belong not to the Great Fear, and I came here before you. My wish is not evil you-ward. It is I who am a friend. But I will go.” With a kind look at the baby he turned away.

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