r supper of stewed apples. Creeping in quietly, the
evil-minded woman lifted my sleeping form from the cradle, so gently
that she did not awaken me, and, holding me closely to her, once more
successfully passed through all the apartments she had already
traversed, without arousing any suspicion, and at length found herself
again in the open air.

'Without losing a moment, she now made off to the woods, and after
wandering in these for some time, she met an old witch with whom, no
doubt, she had an appointment. Seated on the grass, the two women
haggled and haggled, and at last the treacherous nurse sold me to the
witch for three cocoanuts, and then went on her way and out of my life
for ever.

'Now it happened that the old witch lived in the hollow trunk of a tree
with her foster son, a tiny gnome named Orpheus, as quaint a little
object as ever I set eyes on, who played incessantly and most
beautifully on an old concertina, the very one, in fact, which I now
carry with me. The little fellow had been found some years before by the
old witch wandering near the ruins of an old temple in the very middle
of the wood. To whom he belonged, and whence he had come, no one
knew,--not even he himself, perhaps. However, the old girl adopted him,
and now nothing could exceed the motherly affection with which she
regarded this dry and shrivelled-up little chap,--unless, indeed, it was
the ardour with which the grateful gnome returned it. In fact, I learned
some time afterwards that the old witch had purchased me solely that I
might be a companion for this rum little person.

[Illustration: SHE NOW MADE OFF TO THE WOODS]

'The old girl, weird as was her general appearance, did all she could to
make me comfortable,--in fact far more than an ordinary witch would have
dreamt of doing,--and in recognition of her well-intentioned attitude
towards myself, I encouraged the spark of friendliness I began to feel
for her. But for her darling son, as soon as I grew accustomed to his
quaint appearance, and realised his kindness of heart and friendly
disposition towards myself, I conceived a great affection. He would
climb to the topmost branches of our tree, to practise his exercises
every morning, in order that I should not be worried with melancholy
repetitions, and, when perfected in some melody, who shall describe the
unaffected joy with which he would come down and play it for my delight?
How often in the moonlight (I lying on the grass