ILL-LUCK AND THE FIDDLER

wooden plug, and then nothing would do but he must take
a peep inside the nut to see if [l-Luck was really there.
So he picked and pulled at the wooden plug, until at last
out it came; and—phst! pop! out came Ill-Luck along
with it.

Plague take the Fiddler! say I.

“Listen,” says Ill-Luck. “It has been many a long
day that I have been in that hazel-nut, and you are the
man that has let me out; for once in a way I will do a
good turn to a poor human body.” Therewith, and with-
out giving the Fiddler time to speak a word, Il-Luck
caught him up by the belt, and—whiz! away he flew like
a bullet, over hill and over valley, over moor and over
mountain, so fast that not enough wind was left in the
Fiddler’s stomach to say “ Bo!”

By-and-bye he came to a garden, and there he let the
Fiddler drop on the soft grass below. Then away he flew
to attend to other matters of greater need.

When the Fiddler had gathered his wits together, and
himself to his feet, he saw that he lay in a beautiful
garden of flowers and fruit-trees and marble walks and
what not, and that at the end of it stood a great splendid
house, all built of white marble, with a fountain in front
and peacocks strutting about on the lawn.

Well, the Fiddler smoothed down his hair and brushed
his clothes a bit, and off he went to see what was to be
seen at the grand house at the end of the garden. ,

He entered the door, and nobody said no to him.
Then he passed through one room after another, and each
was finer than the one he left behind. Many servants
stood around; but they only bowed, and never asked
whence he came. At last he came to a room where a

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