THE DWARFS.

My godmother's grandmother knew a good deal about the fairies.
_Her_ grandmother had seen a fairy rade on a Roodmas Eve, and she
herself could remember a copper vessel of a queer shape which had been
left by the elves on some occasion at an old farm-house among the
hills, The following story came from her, and where she got it I do not
know. She used to say it was a pleasant tale, with a good moral in the
inside of it. My godmother often observed that a tale without a moral
was like a nut without a kernel; not worth the cracking. (We called
fire-side stories "cracks" in our part of the country.) This is the
tale.

AMELIA.

A couple of gentlefolk once lived in a certain part of England. (My
godmother never would tell the name either of the place or the people,
even if she knew it. She said one ought not to expose one's neighbours'
failings more than there was due occasion for.) They had an only child,
a daughter, whose name was Amelia. They were an easy-going,
good-humoured couple; "rather soft," my godmother said, but she was apt
to think anybody "soft" who came from the southern shires, as these
people did. Amelia, who had been born farther north, was by no means
so. She had a strong resolute will, and a clever head of her own,
though she was but a child. She had a way of her own too, and had it
very completely. Perhaps because she was an only child, or perhaps
because they were so easy-going, her parents spoiled her. She was,
beyond question, the most tiresome little girl in that or any other
neighbourhood. From her baby days her father and mother had taken every
opportunity of showing her to their friends, and there was not a friend
who did not dread the infliction. When the good lady visited her
acquaintances, she always took Amelia with her, and if the
acquaintances were fortunate enough to see from the windows who was
coming, they used to snatch up any delicate knick-knacks, or brittle
ornaments lying about, and put them away, crying, "What is to be done?
Here comes Amelia!"

When Amelia came in, she would stand and survey the room, whilst her
mother saluted her acquaintance; and if anything struck her fancy, she
would interrupt the greetings to draw her mother's attention to it,
with a twitch of her shawl, "Oh, look, Mamma, at that funny bird in the
glass case!" or perhaps, "Mamma, Mamma! There's a new carpet since we
were here last;" for, as her mother said, she was "a very observing
chil