The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1909-02-17
From the ~ScdndinIwdn)i

Ear up in the frozen north, in the
land of the midnight sun, there is a
wonderful race of fairy folk, known
as the underground people, or the lit
tie people of the hills.
Oh. but they play queer antics and
marry pranks, these wee brown folk,
clad in dusky suits, just he color of
the earth in which they live, wearing
on their feet tiny glass slippers, and
furry caps of brown finished with a
silver bell adjoining each elm head.
These caps are possessed OF magic
power, which makes the wearer quite
invisible to mortal eyes. So, though
one often hears on a moonlight night
q soft whispering and low rustic
while walking through a lonely for
est or over a moonlit meadow land
strewn with 1owers-yes. though one
often sees by daylight the grass
pressed down by the tread of dancing
feet the night before-one e sees
the elves themselves, unless he be
lucky enough to find either one of
the little caps or it's silver bell, lost
by some careless dancer.
Now a shepherd lad of Norway had
heard so much of these little folk of
the hills that on n st. Johns Eve
he made up his mind to wait for the
fairy folk all night OIL the top of a
very high hill, which was their favor
lite dancing place. who knows"
thought he, Il may be lucky enough
to find one of their magic caps
AS soon as the night fell, on this
magic night of all the year, the shep-
and lying down in the very deepest
shadow he could find waited in ST.
lence for the fairy folk. Exactly at
midnight the Ginning Of silver bells
and a gay mingling of chatter and
laughter sounded over the lonely hill
top, then a rustic through the grass,
and then a whizzing and a buzzing
that showed very plainly that the lit
tie folk were whirling round and
round in the dance. tumbling and
sporting in the moonlight. playing all
sorts of merry FRANKS and tricks.
The shepherd could not see any of
this merrymaking, you know; he
could only hear the mirth and merri-
ment; but all Of a sudden something
cool and slippery touched his hand,
and one of the little folks set up a
great cry-"Oh, my bell, my bell!
I've lost my little silver bell!" You
may be SUR the shepherd lost no
time in slipping that bell in his pock-
ct, for of course that was what had
touched his hand as it had rolled
from the cap of its tiny owner Now
he could see the little folk running
hither and thither in the most dis
tracted manner. One little fellow
was in great distress. He peered in
the hearts of the wild roses, he
poked his wee finger into the blue
bells cup, and searched every blade
of grass. All in vain, however. He
could not find his silver bell.
The shepherd in the meantime,
knowing what a prize he had found,
was running down the hill as fast as
he could, and never once did he
pause till he was safe in his own cot
tage.
He tried the magic power of the
bell the very next morning, when he
led his sheep out to pasture, and
found that all he had to do to guide
his sheep was to wish the way they
should go, and then ring the silver
bell. Al nee the sheep would meek
ly turn in the direction he wished.
MY! but this saves me a lot of
trouble and work" said ne. 81 will
have to be given something pretty
good before | give up this treasure"
Now the poor little elf who had
lost his bell was having a pretty hard
time, for not one wink Of sleep could
he get until he found it. Their, too,
by laws of his race, he could not
come to the upper world in the day.
time in his true form. So he scurriei
the hills and through the val
leys of Norway in every form of an
imal; he flew through the air, dis
guised as a bird; he crawled on the
ground as 4 little green snake: he
wiggled in the earth as a wee little
worm; and, in the shape of a man,
he even made his way into churches,
houses and barns. searching every
where for his lost bell.
So passed many a weary day, and
the little elf had grown quite thin
and i'll, and his eyes fairly popped
ont of his head with WEAKNESS. But
n day it happened that in the form
Of a bird he was flying low over a
meadow where a flock OF sheep was
grazing. Some Of the sheep had
bells OH their neckS. which rang with
a soft tinkle, tinkle. tinkle, as they
moved about.
There's just 9 chance that my
bell is here" thought the weary lit
tie elf: and in a soft bird carol he
sang this little sad song:
ALAS, my little silver bell.
Pretty sheep, if you can tell
Where is hid my silver bell.
Tell me quickly now | pray!
I have not slept by night or dav
Since my bell was taken away"