together.'

"Swanhilda tried hard to shake the jocular tormentor off, but he kept
his place on the bridge as if he had grown to it. She made a snatch
at him, and he bit her finger.

"'Hark'e, my damsel!' quoth Sweetflower; 'if you are so unmannerly,
'tis time for a lesson. You smarted too little when you were a young
one. We must make all that good now;' and forthwith he settled
himself properly upon her nose, dangling a leg on either side, like a
cavalier in saddle. 'Come, my pretty, be industrious,' continued he;
'get to work, and follow good counsel.' And then he whistled a blithe
and gamesome tune.

"Swanhilda, not heedlessly to prolong her own vexation, dipped the
rod into the water, and immediately saw another gleaming fish
wriggling at its end. A basket, delicately woven of flowers, stood
beside her, half filled with clear water. The fish dropped into it of
themselves. The wee companion beat meanwhile with his feet upon the
wings of the lady's nose, played ten instruments or more at once, and
extemporized a light rambling rhyme, wherein arch gibes and playful
derision of her present forlorn estate were not unmingled with
auguries of a friendlier future.

"'There, you see! where's the distress?' said the urchin, laughing.
'The basket is as full as it can hold. Off with you to the town, and
when your fish are once sold, you may make yourself--some
water-gruel.' With these words the elf leaped into the fish-basket,
crept out again on the other side, plucked a king-cup, took seat in
it, and gave the word--'Forwards!' The flower, on the instant,
displayed its petals. There appeared sail and rudder to the small and
delicate ship, which at once took motion, and sailed gaily through
the air.

"'A prosperous market to you, Swanhilda!' cried Sweetflower, 'behave
discreetly now, and do your tutor justice!'

"Swanhilda, perforce, resigned herself to her destiny. She took her
basket, and carried it home, intending to disguise herself as
completely as possible before making for the town. But all her
clothes lay crumbling into dust. Needs must she then, harassed by
hunger and thirst, begin her weary walk, equipped, as she was, in her
velvet riding-habit.

"Without fatigue, surprised at her celerity--she was in the
market-place. The eyes of all naturally took the direction of the
well-born fisherwoman. Still pity held the tongue of scorn in thrall,
and Swanhilda saw her basket speedily emptied. Once more within her
ca