he said, laughing, "because
I thought you ought to keep it. Good-by, kind, honest man. May you
live long, and be as happy as I am now."

Old Pipes was greatly delighted when he understood that he was really
a younger man; but that made no difference about the money, and he
kept on his way to the village. As soon as he reached it, he was
eagerly questioned as to who had been playing his pipes the evening
before, and when the people heard that it was himself, they were very
much surprised. Thereupon, Old Pipes told what had happened to him,
and then there was greater wonder, with hearty congratulations and
hand-shakes; for Old Pipes was liked by every one. The Chief Villager
refused to take his money, and, although Old Pipes said that he had
not earned it, every one present insisted that, as he would now play
on his pipes as before, he should lose nothing, because, for a time,
he was unable to perform his duty.

So Old Pipes was obliged to keep his money, and after an hour or two
spent in conversation with his friends, he returned to his cottage.

There was one individual, however, who was not at all pleased with
what had happened to Old Pipes. This was an Echo-dwarf, who lived on
the hills on the other side of the valley, and whose duty it was to
echo back the notes of the pipes whenever they could be heard. There
were a great many other Echo-dwarfs on these hills, some of whom
echoed back the songs of maidens, some the shouts of children, and
others the music that was often heard in the village. But there was
only one who could send back the strong notes of the pipes of Old
Pipes, and this had been his sole duty for many years. But when the
old man grew feeble, and the notes of his pipes could not be heard on
the opposite hills, this Echo-dwarf had nothing to do, and he spent
his time in delightful idleness; and he slept so much and grew so fat
that it made his companions laugh to see him walk.

On the afternoon on which, after so long an interval, the sound of
the pipes was heard on the echo hills, this dwarf was fast asleep
behind a rock. As soon as the first notes reached them, some of his
companions ran to wake him. Rolling to his feet, he echoed back the
merry tune of Old Pipes. Naturally, he was very much annoyed and
indignant at being thus obliged to give up his life of comfortable
leisure, and he hoped very much that this pipe-playing would not
occur again. The next afternoon he was awake and listening, and,