82 THE FAIRY-FOLK OF THE BLUE HILL.

The door of the banquet hall was thrown
open as they approached, and the sudden
brilliancy before him almost blinded the little
elf’s eyes. The walls, hewn from solid rock,
glistened with crystals and mica and garnets
that reflected the light from myriads of
torches.

At a table, in the midst of this splendor, sat
King Rondo, eating from a smoking dish of
“grubs on toast,” and drinking deep draughts
of “ Mountain Dew,” collected by his faithful
subjects.

A goodly king was “ Rondo the Round.”
Where else could be found such a red-cheeked,
jolly sprite, with his fat, round body and plump,
short limbs? Just to gaze on him was enough
to make one happy, and to see him with his
favorite dish before him,—well, words can
hardly express what a pleasant sight it was.

Looking up, the king caught sight of his
guest, who stood modestly in the doorway, wait-
ing for permission to enter.

The king spoke thus : —

“Come hither, friend, I pray thee tell
If brother Lippo fares him well,
And if there’s aught that we can do.
To prove to him our friendship true.”