the summit of Black's Ridge. Not one of the many
wild beasts was there. The ground had not been trampled by the herds
that had passed over it; but the dean himself sat with his Prayer-book
before him, while the horse under him stood trembling and foaming.

"By the time the dean reached home he no longer knew whether or not it
had been a dream, a vision, or reality--this that he had seen; but he
took it as a warning to him to remember the poor creatures who were at
the mercy of wild beasts. He preached so powerfully to the Delsbo
peasants that in his day all the wolves and bears were exterminated from
that section of the country, although they may have returned since his
time."

Here Bernhard ended his story. He received praise from all sides and it
seemed to be a foregone conclusion that he would get the prize. The
majority thought it almost a pity that Clement had to compete with him.

But Clement, undaunted, began:

"One day, while I was living at Skansen, just outside of Stockholm, and
longing for home--" Then he told about the tiny midget he had ransomed
so that he would not have to be confined in a cage, to be stared at by
all the people. He told, also, that no sooner had he performed this act
of mercy than he was rewarded for it. He talked and talked, and the
astonishment of his hearers grew greater and greater; but when he came
to the royal lackey and the beautiful book, all the dairymaids dropped
their needle-work and sat staring at Clement in open-eyed wonder at his
marvellous experiences.

As soon as Clement had finished, the eldest of the dairymaids announced
that he should have the muffler.

"Bernhard related only things that happened to another, but Clement has
himself been the hero of a true story, which I consider far more
important."

In this all concurred. They regarded Clement with very different eyes
after hearing that he had talked with the King, and the little fiddler
was afraid to show how proud he felt. But at the very height of his
elation some one asked him what had become of the midget.

"I had no time to set out the blue bowl for him myself," said Clement,
"so I asked the old Laplander to do it. What has become of him since
then I don't know."

No sooner had he spoken than a little pine cone came along and struck
him on the nose. It did not drop from a tree, and none of the peasants
had thrown it. It was simply impossible to tell whence it had come.

"Aha, Clement!" winked the dair