pennies, and help
miners find gold and silver hidden in dark places. Can you be happy
here, and do all these things faithfully?"

"Yes, for love of Lily I can do anything," said Thistle bravely, and
fell to work at once with all his heart.

It was hard and dull for the gay fairy, who loved light and air, to live
in the earth like a mole; and often he was very sad and tired, and
longed to fly away to rest. But he never did, and at last Sparkle said,
"You have done enough. Here is the golden wand, and as many jewels as
you like."

But Thistle cared only for the wand, and hurried up to the sunshine as
fast as he could climb, eager to show the Brownies how well he had kept
his word.

They were very glad to see him back and told him to rest a little. But
he could not wait, and with a look at Lily, still fast asleep, he flew
away to find the air spirits.

No one seemed to know where they lived, and Thistle was in despair till
he remembered hearing Buzz speak of them when he first met him.

"I dare not go to the hive, for the bees might kill me, I did so much
harm. Perhaps if I first show them I am sorry, they will forgive me as
the flowers did," he said.

So he went into a field of clover and worked busily till he had filled
two blue-bells full of the sweetest honey. These he left at the door of
the hive when no one saw him, and then hid in the apple-tree close by.

The bees were much pleased and surprised; for every day two little blue
jars stood at the door, full of honey so fresh and sweet that it was
kept for the Queen and the royal babies.

"It is some good elf, who knows how much trouble we have had this
summer, and wants to help us fill our cells before the frost comes. If
we catch the kind fellow we will thank him well," said the bees
gratefully.

"Ah, ha! we shall be friends again, I think, if I keep on," laughed
Thistle, much cheered as he sat among the leaves.

After this he not only left the pretty honey-pots, but flew far and wide
for all the flowering herbs bees love to suck, and nearly broke his back
lugging berries from the wood, or great bags of pollen for their bread,
till he was as dusty as a little miller. He helped the ants with their
heavy loads, the field-mice with their small harvesting, and chased
flies from the patient cows feeding in the fields. No one saw him, but
all loved "Nimble Nobody" as they called the invisible friend who did so
many kindly things.

At last they caught him,