ke the
echo sent back by a mountain or a rock.

"I do not ask or wish to be repaid," was the reply. "Don't you know
what the proverb says? 'Do good, and throw it into the sea; if the
fishes don't know it, _Odin_ will!'"

"Yes: Odin shall know it, never fear," answered the dwarf; "but, as I
happen to be informed that your tea-table is not quite large enough
for three, I think I will decline your invitation to supper. Really,
my lad," he continued, "it would delight me to do you a little favor;
for, though I am only a poor dwarf, I know how to be grateful. By the
way, have you seen such a thing hereabouts as a green alder-tree?"

"A green alder-tree in winter-time!" cried Thule.

"A curious thing, indeed," said the dwarf; "but I chanced to see one
the other night in my rambles. Ah! look, here it is right before your
eyes."

All the other forest-trees were dry and hard, their hearts frozen
within them; but this tree was alive, hidden behind a clump of firs.
When Thule began to dig about its roots, it seemed to come out of the
ground of its own free will, and to lie over his shoulders as if it
would caress him.

"Take home the little tree, and plant it before your door, my lad."

The youth turned to thank the stranger; but he had vanished. Then
Thule ran home with all speed to tell his mother of the little old man
who had faded from his sight like a wreath of smoke.

"Now I wonder what it is you have seen," said the good woman, raising
her hands in surprise. "Was he brown, my son, with a long nose?"

"As brown as a nut, mother, with no end of nose."

"Just as I supposed, my child! That dwarf is a wonderful
creature,--one of the night-elves, a race gifted with great
understanding. Know, my son, that he carves runes upon stones; and he
no doubt assisted in making Thor's hammer, that terrible instrument
which can crush the skull of a giant."

"One thing I observed," said the boy: "he blinked at that flashing in
the sky, which people call Northern Lights; he had to shade his eyes
with his funny little hand."

"Did he, indeed? Poor Elf! Light is painful to his race; and I have
even heard that a stroke of sunshine is able to turn them into
stones. I am almost afraid of this little tree," added the good mother
musingly. "You know what we read in the holy Eddas: Both the alder and
the ash trees should be held sacred; for Odin formed man from the ash,
and woman from the alder. Nevertheless, the night-elf could not hav