fore, but the boy went on.

"I think it is about a year now," he said, "since the people first
felt sure that the cattle could not hear your pipes; and from that
time we've been driving them down. But we are rested now, and will go
home. Good-night, sir."

The three children then went down the hill, the girl scolding the boy
all the way home. Old Pipes stood silent a few moments, and then he
went into his cottage.

"Mother," he shouted; "did you hear what those children said?"

"Children!" exclaimed the old woman; "I did not hear them. I did not
know there were any children here."

Then Old Pipes told his mother, shouting very loudly to make her
hear, how the two boys and the girl had helped him up the hill, and
what he had heard about his piping and the cattle.

"They can't hear you?" cried his mother. "Why, what's the matter with
the cattle?"

"Ah, me!" said Old Pipes; "I don't believe there's any thing the
matter with the cattle. It must be with me and my pipes that there is
something the matter. But one thing is certain, if I do not earn the
wages the Chief Villager pays me, I shall not take them. I shall go
straight down to the village and give back the money I received
to-day."

"Nonsense!" cried his mother. "I'm sure you've piped as well as you
could, and no more can be expected. And what are we to do without the
money?"

"I don't know," said Old Pipes; "but I'm going down to the village to
pay it back."

The sun had now set; but the moon was shining very brightly on the
hill-side, and Old Pipes could see his way very well. He did not take
the same path by which he had gone before, but followed another,
which led among the trees upon the hill-side, and, though longer, was
not so steep.

When he had gone about half-way, the old man sat down to rest,
leaning his back against a great oak-tree. As he did so, he heard a
sound like knocking inside the tree, and then a voice distinctly
said:

"Let me out! let me out!"

Old Pipes instantly forgot that he was tired, and sprang to his feet.
"This must be a Dryad-tree!" he exclaimed. "If it is, I'll let her
out."

Old Pipes had never, to his knowledge, seen a Dryad-tree, but he knew
there were such trees on the hill-sides and the mountains, and that
Dryads lived in them. He knew, too, that in the summer-time, on those
days when the moon rose before the sun went down, a Dryad could come
out of her tree if any one could find the key which locked her in,