t I could lend you--not even an
apple.' But now I can lend her ten, or a whole sackful--that is
really nice, father."

"Well, that is capital!" exclaimed the stranger, "always going
downhill, and yet always cheerful; it is worth the money." So he paid
a hundredweight of gold to the peasant.

Now, that is my story. I heard it when I was little, and now you have
heard it too, and know that what father does is always right.

THE ELDER TREE MOTHER

There was once a little boy who had caught cold; he had gone out and
got wet feet. No one could imagine how it had happened, for it was
quite dry weather. His mother undressed him, put him to bed, and had
the tea-urn brought in to make him a good cup of elder tea, for that
warms well.

"Now you are to drink your tea," said the mother, "and then perhaps
you will hear a story."

The little boy drank the elder tea and then looked at the tea-pot. The
lid raised itself and the elder flowers came forth from it, white and
fresh. They shot forth long branches even out of the spout; they
spread about in all directions and became larger and larger. There was
the most glorious elder bush, in fact quite a tree. It stretched to
the bed and thrust the curtains aside; how fragrant it was and how it
bloomed! And in the midst of the tree sat an old, pleasant looking
woman in a strange dress. It was quite green like the leaves of the
elder tree, and bordered with great white elder blossoms. One could
not tell whether this border was of stuff, or of living green and real
flowers.

"Who are you?" the little boy asked.

"They used to call me a Dryad," said the woman, "but I have a better
name than that. I am the Elder Tree Mother."

Then she took the little boy out of bed, and laid him upon her bosom.
The blossoming elder branches wound round them so they sat as it were
in the thickest arbor, and this arbor flew away with them through the
air. It was very beautiful. Elder Mother all at once became a pretty
young girl; at her throat she had a real elder flower, and on her head
a wreath of elder blossoms. Her eyes were large and blue. She and the
boy were of the same age and felt the same joys.

Hand in hand they went out of the arbor, and now they stood in the
beauteous flower garden of home. The father's staff was tied up near
the fresh grass plot, and for the little boy there was life in the
staff. The polished head turned into a noble, neighing horse's head
with a flowing mane