parlour lacing his shoes.

So Wry-Face cried out in a gay little voice, "Here I am, Heigh-Heavy,
here I am! And here is a bag of pearls which I have brought you in
exchange for your beautiful daughter So-Small!"

When Heigh-Heavy heard this, he stopped lacing his shoes, and he said,
"You must bring me in exchange for my daughter So-Small as many pearls
as will cover my palm."

Then Wry-Face skipped forward, and he tipped up the sack; and he shook
out all that it held into the hand of Heigh-Heavy the Giant, standing
high upon his toes.

Now all that it held was--one brown potato!

Wry-Face the gnome stared, and stared, and stared, his eyes growing
rounder and rounder; but he had no time to weep on account of
Heigh-Heavy the Giant who had fallen into a rage terrible to see.

"Now there is one thing quite certain," said Heigh-Heavy, "and that is
that you shall never marry my daughter So-Small; for, my Wry-Face, I
will turn you into a brown potato, and a brown potato you shall remain
your whole life through!"

When Wry-Face heard this terrible threat, he took to his heels, and
ran from the Most-Enormous-House of Heigh-Heavy the Giant. And he ran,
and ran, till his coat was torn and his ears were red. And he never
rested till he reached his cottage door, and got inside.

Heigh-Heavy laughed till he cried to see the little gnome run. "He
will play no tricks on _me_!" said he. And he went in and shut the
door.

But Wry-Face said to himself as, weeping, he carried the potatoes to
the potato-wife:

"I will never play a trick on _anyone_ again, not as long as I live!"

_The Pot of Gold_

HORACE E. SCUDDER

_Chrif begins the Search_

Once upon a time there stood by the roadside an old red house. In this
house lived three people. They were an old grandmother; her
grandchild, Rhoda; and a boy named Christopher. Christopher was no
relation to Rhoda and her grandmother. He was called Chrif for short.

The grandmother earned her living by picking berries. Every day in
fair weather she went to the pastures. But she did not take the
children with her. They played at home.

Rhoda had a flower garden in an old boat. The boat was filled with
earth. There grew larkspur and sweet-william. Rhoda loved her flowers
and tended them faithfully.

Chrif did not care much for flowers. He preferred to sail boats. He
would cut them out of wood with his jack-knife, and load them with
stones and grass. Then he would send th