w.

They were going so fast it was almost impossible to breathe.

Presently a tiny light appeared in the distance, and he saw that they
were now on a level, although still going at a tremendous rate of speed.

In another moment they shot through the little round hole of light,
which turned out to be the opening at the other end, and he and the
Gnome landed safely on a big soft bunker of moss in the midst of a
beautiful forest.

Birds were singing in the treetops and little rabbits were skipping on
the soft carpet of the woodland.

Pretty flowers sent forth a delicious perfume and a brook close at hand
rippled over the pebbly bottom of its bed.

"Wait," cried the Gnome, as Ned leaned over to drink the cool water.
"Wait; I have for you the most delicious drink if you will restrain your
impatience a moment longer."

Ned obeyed and followed the Gnome along a narrow path until they came to
a small clearing, where the blue sky smiled down upon them.

In the center of the spot was a monstrous watermelon, standing up on
end, the thick vine supporting it like a strong round barrel stave.

A large wooden spigot protruded from one side and over it leaned a
Gnome, who had climbed upon the vine in order to reach the handle.

Ned's little companion lifted a goblin cup to catch the drops of
delicious looking pink juice which began to drip slowly from the spigot
when the Gnome carefully turned the handle.

"Careful, now," commanded the Gnome, as he handed the brimming goblet to
Ned. "See that you spill not a drop of the precious nectar.

"Good, is it?" he inquired, seeing the sparkle in Ned's eyes and hearing
the smack on his lips as the last drop disappeared. "Pretty good, eh?"

"Better'n soda water," replied Ned; "lots better."

The little Gnome at the spigot smiled. "I grew the melon," he said with
pride. "It's the largest so far in Gnomeland. But next year I'm going to
grow even a bigger one!"

"How do you make them grow so large?" inquired Ned, hoping he would be
invited to have another glass of the juice.

"Not another drop!" said Ned's little friend. "A second goblet and you
would be so hungry you could eat stones."

"Come with me," said the small Gnome guide. "We must eat."

Ned eagerly followed him, and they pressed forward at a rapid walk until
they came to a queer little hut, from which issued a most delicious odor
of sponge cake.

Around the door, or, more properly, what appeared to be one, but which