king story of a Dvaerg is that in the Danish family Bille,
who have a Dvaerg in their coat of arms. There was, many hundred years
ago, such a dry time in the land that all the water-mills could not
work, and the people could not get their corn ground. A member of the
family of Bille was in his Herregaard, and was much troubled on this
account. A little Dvaerg came to him, who was covered with hair, and
had a tree in his hand plucked up by the roots. 'What is the matter?'
said the Dvaerg. 'It is no use my telling you' said Bille; 'you cannot
help me.' The Dvaerg replied, 'You cannot get your corn ground, and you
have many children and people that want bread; but I will show you a
place on your own land where you can build seven corn-mills, and they
shall never want water.' So Herr Bille built the seven mills, and they
have never wanted water, winter or summer. The Dvaerg gave him also a
little white horn, and told Herr Bille that as long as it was kept in
the family, prosperity would attend it. This legend belongs to
Sjaelland."

"I suppose there are many traditions in families in Denmark?" said
Hardy.

"Very many," replied the Pastor. "There is a story of Tyge Brahe, or,
as you call him in England, Tycho. He was at a wedding, and got into a
quarrel with a Herr Manderup Parsberg, and it went so far that they
fought a duel. Tyge Brahe lost his nose. But he had a nose made of
gold and silver, so artistically correct that no one could see that it
was any other than his own nose, and of flesh and blood; but to be
sure that it should not be lost, he always carried some glue in his
pocket."

"I never heard that story of the great astronomer," said Hardy.

"There is a story also of a Herr Eske Brok, who lived in Sjaelland. He
was one day walking with a servant, and was swinging about his
walking-stick, when suddenly a hat fell at his feet. He picked it up
and put it on, when he heard an exclamation from his servant Then said
Brok, 'You try the hat;' and they found that whoever had the hat on
was invisible to the other. After a while, a bareheaded boy came to
Brok's house and inquired for his hat, and offered a hundred ducats
for it, and afterwards more. At last, the boy promised that if he gave
him the hat none of his descendants should ever want. Brok gave the
hat to the boy; but as he went away he said, 'But you shall never have
sons, only daughters.' So Eske Brok was the last of his name."

"That boy must have been a D