stirring was heard in the hall, the doors opened, and in walked
the big fairy godmother and her white gnome.

She was a tall, much bent old woman, in a ruffled cap, a peaked hat, and
a long red cloak. He, the gnome, wore red trousers and red sleeves. The
rest of his body was dressed in a white pillow-case with arm-holes cut
in it. It was gathered at his belt; gathered also by a red ribbon tied
around the throat; the corners of the pillow-case tied with narrow
ribbon formed his ears, and there was a white bandage over his eyes, and
a round opening for his mouth. The godmother dragged in a large sack,
and the gnome bore a stick with bells at the end.

"Let me into the ring, dears," squeaked the fairy godmother.

"Let me into the ring, dears," growled the white gnome.

The circle obeyed.

"Now, my dears," squeaked the fairy godmother, "I've brought you a
bagful of lovely things, but, you must know, I am under an enchantment.
All I can do is to let you each take out a gift when your turn comes,
but when you send me a 'Thank-you,' don't let my white gnome know who it
is, for if he guesses your name you must put the gift back without
opening the paper. But if he guesses the wrong name, then you may keep
the gift. So now begin, one at a time. Keep the magic circle moving
until my gnome knocks three times."

Around went the circle, eager with fun and expectation. Suddenly the
blindfolded gnome pounded three times with his stick, and then pointed
it straight in front of him, jingling the little bells. Tommy Budd was
the happy youth pointed at.

"Help yourself, my dear," squeaked the fairy godmother, as she held the
sack toward him. He plunged his arm into the opening and brought out a
neat paper parcel.

"Hey! What did you say, dear?" she squeaked. "Take hold of the stick."

Tommy seized the end of the stick, and said, in a hoarse tone, "Thank
you, ma'am."

"That's John Stevens," growled the gnome. "Put it back! put it back!"

But it wasn't John Stevens, and so Tommy kept the parcel.

The circle moved again. The gnome knocked three times, and this time the
stick pointed to Dorry. She tried to be polite, and direct her
neighbor's hand to it, but the godmother would not hear of that.

"Help yourself, child," she squeaked; and Dorry did. The paper parcel
which she drew from the sack was so tempting and pretty, all tied with
ribbon, that she really tried very hard to disguise her "Thank you," but
the blindfolded gnome