There were so many Goblins that the Fairies were obliged to spread a table on the ground for themselves, and when the rabbits appeared with the food the Goblins jumped up and helped themselves before the rabbits could serve them.

At last the Queen, seeing that it was of no use to have waiters for the Goblins, told the rabbits to put the ice cream and cake and lemonade and all the nice things on the table and let the Goblins help themselves.

The bad Goblins spoiled the beautiful cloth the spider had taken so much trouble to weave; they spilled the lemonade and they crumbled the cake and the poor Queen was in despair.

The Goblins, not getting the food quick enough to suit them, had climbed on the table, which, you remember, was spread on a rock. Now, this rock did not have any moss on it, and it happened that it was one of the doors to the home of the Gnomes.

The Gnomes are little brown men and they hide under the leaves and sticks that are so near the color of themselves that they cannot be seen, so they had been watching all that went on at the party, and, when they saw the Goblins on top of one of their rocks, part of their number hurried into the earth and opened the stone where the Goblins were.

Some of the Goblins were quick enough to escape, but most of them went into the ground, and all the cake and candy and ice cream with them.

The Queen and her Fairies jumped up and looked around. Everything was changed and the Fairies shivered as they looked.

The trees were brown and the bushes and the leaves were falling from the trees, making the ground look as though it had a brown carpet over it.

The air was frosty and the poor little Fairies looked about in amazement at the dreary scene before them. The Goblins that escaped were running around and calling on the Queen to help them rescue their brothers.

"It is all your fault," they told her. "If you had asked the Gnomes to your party this would not have happened. Now you must help us to get our brothers out of the power of those bad Gnomes.

"What shall I do?" asked the poor Queen. She felt that her party had been a failure and thought if she had asked the Gnomes it could not have been worse.

Just then a Goblin came running toward them. He had been sent by the Gnomes. They told him to say that his brothers would all be held prisoners until the Fairies sent them all the ice cream they wanted.

The Fairies and the Goblins hurried to the kitchen in the hollow, but it was empty. The squirrels and the rabbits had hurried off when they felt the frosty air and saw everything turning brown.

"What is to be done?" asked the Goblins, "You ought to help us," they told the Queen again. "If we had not come to your party we should not have gotten into trouble."

The Queen could not resist replying to this remark the second time.

"If your brothers and you had not climbed on the table, but kept your seats, as well-behaved Goblins should, you would not have been in need of help.

"We must go to work," she said to her Fairies. "Fold your wings and pin up your skirts. We must make ice cream for those wicked Gnomes."

They worked all night, and just before it was light the Goblins carried ice cream in nut sh.e.l.ls to the rocks of the Gnomes, and by and by the captured Goblins came out and joined their comrades.

"We lost our supper," said the Goblins to the Fairies, "and you should give us our breakfast. We are hungry. If it had not been for your party we should not have lost our supper."

This was more than the poor tired Queen and her Fairies could bear.

They took their wands from under their wings and, waving them, they flew toward the Gnomes.

Little sparks darted from the wands, and every time a spark touched a Goblin it left a little red mark, and at the same time it p.r.i.c.ked them.

Such tumbling and scampering you never saw as the Goblins tried to get away, and when a Goblin that had a red spot on his face meets a Fairy he hides or runs, for he knows that she will point him out as one of the greedy Goblins who tried to make the Fairies cook their breakfast for them.

THE LITTLE CHINA SHEPHERDESS

[Ill.u.s.tration: The China Shepherdess]

On the parlor mantel of a farmhouse stood little China Shepherdess. In one hand she held a gilt crook and with the other she shaded her eyes and gazed far away. Probably she was looking for her sheep. Her dress was of red and green, and it was trimmed with gilt. Her boots were also gilt.

On the other end of the mantel stood a little china Flute Player. He was dressed in red and white, and his flute was gilt and his boots were red. He held his flute to his lips in a very jaunty manner, but his eyes were on the little Shepherdess. He had been in love with her for a long time, but never a look did she give him.

China Cat stood near the Flute Player, and one day she heard him sigh.

"Why do you sigh?" she asked him. He shook his head, but did not answer. "I know," said the Cat; "you are in love with the Shepherdess, and she will not look at you. Now, let me tell you how to manage.

First, you must stop looking at her. She knows that you are always gazing in her direction."

The Flute Player shook his head again and said, "I cannot help looking at her, she is so pretty and I love her so dearly."

"But you must," said China Cat. "There is the Flower Girl on the center table. Look at her and play your jolliest tune and see what happens."

So the little Flute Player took China Cat's advice and began to play a lively air. He smiled at the little Flower Girl, who smiled in return and made him a curtsey. Then she began to dance, keeping time to his music. The Flute Player commenced to dance as he played, and China Cat moved her head from side to side. The little Shepherdess tapped on the mantel with her gilt boot and looked toward the Flute Player. But he was gazing at the Flower Girl, and for the first time she thought him rather good to look at.

"I cannot see what there is about that Flower Girl to attract him,"

said the Shepherdess; "she hasn't a bit of color about her; she is as white as a piece of cloth; even her flowers are white."

By and by the little Shepherdess began to dance and she moved toward the end of the mantel where the Flute Player stood. China Cat rubbed against the Flute Player's leg.

"Look," she said, "but be careful she does not catch you; the Shepherdess is coming this way."

His heart beat very fast, but he kept on playing and fixed his eyes on the little Flower Girl. But the Shepherdess did not come any nearer than the middle of the mantel, and not once did she look at him. By and by it was dark and the Flute Player could not see the Flower Girl, so he stopped playing and his heart was heavy again.

China Cat, however, was bound to make a match between the Shepherdess and the Flute Player, and she walked over to the little Shepherdess and asked, "Don't you think that he plays well?"

"Who?" asked the artful little Shepherdess.

"The handsome Flute Player," said China Cat.

"Oh, I have not thought much about it," answered the Shepherdess.

"Wouldn't you like to hear him play again?" said China Cat. "It would cheer us up, the room is so dark."

Just then the moonlight streamed in the window and lighted the room.

The little Shepherdess looked into the distance again and said she thought it would be nice to hear the music. So China Cat trotted over to the Flute Player.

"She wants to hear you play," she said, "and I think you can win her."

The Flute Player began playing soft music and walking toward the little Shepherdess. The music was so sweet and sad that by the time he reached her side she was wiping her eyes. He stole one arm around her waist and told her not to cry, that he would play a jolly tune for her.

"No, those are the tunes you play for the Flower Girl," she said, hanging her head. "I do not want you to play them for me."

"I did not play any tunes for the Flower Girl," he said, "they were all for you."

"But you looked at her all the time," said the now humble little Shepherdess.

"I was thinking of you," he replied. "Let us sit on the end of the mantel and I will play to you. What would you like to hear?"