lling you all about it, I must describe the children to
you and let you know something of their character; for, if they had
not been so sweet and brave and plucky, the curious story which you
are about to hear would never have happened at all.

Tyltyl--that was our hero's name--was ten years old; and Mytyl, his
little sister, was only six.

Tyltyl was a fine, tall little fellow, stout and well-set-up, with
curly black hair which was often in a tangle, for he was fond of a
romp. He was a great favorite because of his smiling and good-tempered
face and the bright look in his eyes; but, best of all, he had the
ways of a bold and fearless little man, which showed the noble
qualities of his heart. When, early in the morning, he trotted along
the forest-road by the side of his daddy, Tyl the woodcutter, for all
his shabby clothes he looked so proud and gallant that every beautiful
thing on the earth and in the sky seemed to lie in wait for him to
smile upon him as he passed.

His little sister was very different, but looked ever so sweet and
pretty in her long frock, which Mummy Tyl kept neatly patched for her.
She was as fair as her brother was dark; and her large timid eyes were
blue as the forget-me-nots in the fields. Anything was enough to
frighten her and she would cry at the least thing; but her little
child soul already held the highest womanly qualities: she was loving
and gentle and so fondly devoted to her brother that, rather than
abandon him, she did not hesitate to undertake a long and dangerous
journey in his company.

What happened and how our little hero and heroine went off into the
world one night in search of happiness: that is the subject of my
story.

Daddy Tyl's cottage was the poorest of the countryside; and it seemed
even more wretched because it stood opposite a splendid hall in which
rich children lived. From the windows of the cottage you could see
what went on inside the Hall when the dining-room and drawing-rooms
were lit up in the evening. And, in the daytime, you saw the little
children playing on the terraces, in the gardens and in the hot-houses
which people came all the way from town to visit because they were
always filled with the rarest flowers.

Now, one evening which was not like other evenings, for it was
Christmas Eve, Mummy Tyl put her little ones to bed and kissed them
even more lovingly than usual. She felt a little sad because, owing to
the stormy weather, Daddy Tyl was no