The central Presbyterian. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1856-1908, 1882-05-31
Gyhildren's Column.
The Silver Chips.
BY LUCY RANDOLPH FLEMIl


wishing to be rich?" asked his sister
Gretchen, who, with her knitting in her
busy fingers, was Watching her brother
at the work he was supposed to be doing.
Well, you see, Gretchen" said lazy
Franz" if we were rich 1 should not
have to bind fagots, nor work so hard !;
and-and-we could have as fine things
as Frau Margaret has in her great house
And should not have to carry the bas-
ket to the village, when mother goes to
sell her knitting, and yours"
think, said Gretchen, quietly you
end just as you began. You want to be
rich not to help any one but yourself
You work no harder than the rest of us,
Franz"
"I work harder than 1 like" said
Franz, sulkily. And he continued to
chip off the bark.
Don't you wish they were silver
chips?' said Gretchen, laughing. but
think you will get rich faster-if you
stop wishing so much, and work more
contentedly" And Gretchen ran back
to the cottage, for baby Truda had walked,
but his sisters words about the silver
CHIPS rang Ill his edTS.
After supper he lay on bench beside
the chimney, and watched the dancing
flames, while his father carved wooden
spoons, and his mother and Gretchen
knit and knit, as they did every moment
of the time, when not dusy with house
hold work All, save Franz, were busy
and contented in the little tbatched cot
tage on the hillside. AS Franz lay dream
lily watching the fire, he thought he heard
sounds, like those of woodlands axe,
ringing through the forest He listened,
and little shiver passed over him.
y" 1t must be the Grey Wood-cutter, +"
said Franz, to himself; and then again
he remembered Gretchen's words about
the silver chips. For the mountain wood
men had story, which the children had
often heard, that on certain nights of the
year the Grey Wood-cutter (who was an
elf or ghoul, who haunted those forests)
cut wood in the mountain. 1t was also
said that the chips made by his axe were
silver flakes, instead of wood, if one could
gather them by moonlight; but when the
sun shone upon them, they became black
as if charred by fire. The wood cutters
passing by heaps of charred- looking frag-
ments would say, Ha! the Grey Wood
man has been at work, and no mountain
child would gather these black chips into
his or her basket.
AS Franz lay and listened, he began to
wonder if one could gather these silver
chips, he would not at last be very rich
Then he remembered he had heard of
some one who had gathered the Wood
mans chips; and he remembered, too,
that every one shook his head, and looked
solemn when old Giles was spoken Of
He had been called very rich, but Franz
could just recall very miserable look
ing, bent old man, who lived alone in a
poor cottage now partly fallen into ruin
Old Giles silver chips, If he did gather
comfortable. But Franz did not long
think of him. How can Iget the silver
chips?'' was the one idea in his mind.
I'll steal out when all are asleep, and
gather some, and hide them under the
leaves where the sun cannot shine upon
them"
So, when all was still in the cottage,
Franz buttoned his blue jerkin close to
his chin, stuck his fur cap on his head,
and stole softly to the door with his
wooden shoes in his hand. The moon
shone brightly, there was no sound to be
heard but the sharp, clear ring of the
Grey Wood-cutter's axe. Franz stole on
towards the sounds. Nearer and nearer,
till in the moonlight, vigorously cutting
at the trunk Of a great tree, Franz saw
stout little old man, all clad in grey.
Scattered all around him, glittering in
the moonlight sure enough, there were
the silver chips Franz stood trembling
and shivering, looking at the Wood cut
ter and the heaps of silver. Suddenly
tie old man turned sharply towards the
boy:
" Hal" said he, and who are you ?"
Then Franz saw that he had most ugly
face, and leered frightfully with his small,
grey eyes for he appeared all grey-from
his strange grey boots to his grey cap,
from under which fell his long hair upon
his grey coat.
"Speak, boy" he cried " did you come
to steal my chips?"
No, no, faltered Franz. 81 did not
mean to steal them, but II want to be
rich, and thought perhaps you would let
me gather up few of your silver chips.
Wanted to be rich, wanted to be rich,
ha, ha, ha, ha !" Franz thought he had
never heard such a dreadful laugh.
Rich, like old Giles, hey ?" continued