lly," said he, "I must show this rat-catcher that there are other
sorts of traps, and that it isn't only rats and gnomes that get caught
in them! I have given him his taste of wealth; now it shall act as
pickle to his poverty!"

So the next time the rat-catcher put his foot out of doors the ground
gave way under it, and, snap!--the gnome had him by the leg.

"Let me go!" cried the rat-catcher; "I can't get out!"

"Can't you?" said the gnome. "If I let you out, what will you give me?"

"My daughter!" cried the rat-catcher; "my beautiful golden daughter!"

"Oh no!" laughed the gnome. "Guess again!"

"My own weight in gold!" cried the rat-catcher, in a frenzy; but the
gnome would not close the bargain till he had wrung from the rat-catcher
the promise of his last penny.

So the gnome carried away all the sacks of gold before the rat-catcher's
eyes; and when he had them safe underground, then at last he let the
old man go. Then he called Jasome' to follow him, and she went down
willingly into the black earth.

For a whole year the gnome rubbed and scrubbed and tubbed her to get
the gold out of her composition; and when it was done, she was the most
shiningly beautiful thing you ever set eyes on.

When she got back to the palace, she found her dear prince pining for
love of her, and wondering when she would return. So they were married
the very next day; and the rat-catcher came to look on at the wedding.

He grumbled because he was in rags, and because he was poor; he wept
that he had been robbed of his money and his daughter. But gnomes and
daughters, he said, were in one and the same box; such ingratitude as
theirs no one could beat.

WHITE BIRCH

Once upon a time there lived in a wood a brother and sister who had been
forgotten by all the world. But this thing did not greatly grieve
their hearts, because they themselves were all the world to each other:
meeting or parting, they never forgot that. Nobody remained to tell them
who they were; but she was "Little Sister," and he was "Fair Brother,"
and those were the only names they ever went by.

In their little wattled hut they would have been perfectly happy but
for one thing which now and then they remembered and grieved over. Fair
Brother was lame--not a foot could he put to the ground, nor take one
step into the outside world. But he lay quiet on his bed of leaves,
while Little Sister went out and in, bringing him food and drink, and
the scent of