56 THE FAIRY-FOLK OF THE BLUE HILL.

ran like a silver thread. A white mist,
through which a delicate form was faintly
seen, rose from the water, and, seeming to
bend toward the Blue Hill, gradually floated
away and faded in the distance.

At the instant the last wreath of mist dis-
appeared, a gurgling of water was heard, and
from the rock where the gnomes had been at
work there gushed a stream of water clear as
crystal, and filled the basin that had been
made.

Whereupon the little gnomes made obei-
sance toward the place where the spirit of the
dell had appeared, while they uttered these
words : —

“Thanks, fair spirit of yon dell,
For granting us a fairy spell.
May this sparkling little rill
Refresh those travelling up Blue Hill;

But should the envious come this way,
Help them to cure their fault, we pray.’

’

As they ended, the gnomes shouldered their
little hammers and ascended the hill in single
file, the blue dragon-fly gazing with amaze-
ment after their retreating figures.

“Can I have been dreaming?” asked the