Ln the Charmed Circle. 59

a peach across the board, which knocked the Elf King off his
seat.

“A child’s voice was heard to join in the mirth this oc-
casioned. Yes, it was a human voice, just beyond the bushes.
The elves looked at each other in dismay; Rapp became ter-
ribly enraged: his copper face glowed with wrath, his gold
hair bristled on end like gilded spikes, and his green eyes
flashed fire.

“* What mortal is here?’ he cried.

“Then a little girl crept out of the ferns, and stood trem-
bling before him. She had entered a charmed circle without
knowing it, and had since watched the elves. She was not
like the little girls one sees here now. Her skin was bronze
in color, her hair hung down her back straight and black, her
feet were shod in moccasins. You only find children like her
in the far West—she was an Indian.

“*Why do you disturb our feast, child of man? asked
Rapp, very fiercely. ‘I have only to strike the earth, and my
servants will carry you away to my palace underground for a
hundred years.’

“The child began to cry at this threat, and the elves caught
her tears to sprinkle them over the Gnome King’s hands, and
thus try to soften his heart, which was in reality made of iron.

“«This is my kingdom,’ said the Elf King, with dignity.
‘You are my guest, King Rapp. The little girl shall not be
hurt.’

“< Tell us your story,’ said the Queen, kindly.

“*A story! a story!’ cried the elves, clustering about the
stranger, while Rapp leaned back in his seat, and shut one eye.