ing to bring Thistle his
rewards," said the Brownies, as they pointed to a troop of earth spirits
rising from among the mossy roots of an old tree. Sparkle brought a
golden wand like the one he had earned for Lily, and while she was
giving it, down through the air came the sky spirits, with the mantle of
sunshine as their gift. Hardly had they folded it round happy Thistle,
when the sound of music, like drops falling in time and tune, was heard,
and along the brook in their boats of rosy shells came the water sprites
with the crown.

As they put it on his head all took hands and danced about the two
elves, shouting in their soft voices, "Thistledown and Lilybell! Long
live our King and Queen!"

III.

RIPPLE, THE WATER SPRITE.

[Illustration: Suddenly a great wave came rolling in.--PAGE 64.]

Down in the deep sea lived Ripple, a happy little water sprite. She
lived in a palace of red coral, with gardens of sea-flowers all round
it, the waves like a blue sky above it, and white sand full of jewels
for its floor. Ripple and her mates had gay times playing with the
sea-urchins, chasing flying-fish, rocking in the shells, and weaving
many-colored sea-weed into delicate clothes to wear.

But the pastime Ripple loved best was to rise to the light and air, and
float on the waves that rocked her softly in the sunshine, while the
gulls stooped to tell her news of the great world they saw in their long
flights. She liked to watch little children playing on the shore, and
when they ran into the sea she caught them in her arms and held them up
and kissed them, though they saw and felt only the cool water and the
white foam.

Ripple had one sorrow; for when tempests came and the waves rolled
overhead like black clouds, ships were often wrecked, and those whom the
angry sea drowned came floating down, pale and cold, to the home of the
water sprites, who mourned over them, and laid them in graves of white
sea-sand, where jewels shone like flowers.

One day a little child sank down from the storm above to the quiet that
was never broken, far below. Its pretty eyes were closed as if asleep,
its long hair hung about the pale face like wet weeds, and the little
hands still held the shells they had been gathering when the cruel waves
swept it away. The tender-hearted sprites cried salt tears over it, and
wrapped it in their softest sheets, finding it so lovely and so sad they
could not bury it out of sight. While they sung