Part 3

“Is this your star?” cried out the water sprite.

“Yes, yes! It’s mine!” said Winnie.

“Then you’ll never get it! You shan’t have it!” cried the water sprite, angrier than ever. “You’ll see what I’m going to do with it! You’ll never get it again! Ah! there she goes!”

He swung the star by the sling in his hand, and gave it a great fling, and away it flew over the tree tops, in a beautiful bright curve, higher and higher, and then lower and lower.

But he was greatly mistaken if he thought he could get rid of the star in any such way as that. Quick as a flash all three of the starlight fairies were in the air, and off like three arrows over the tree tops after the star. Before Merrimeg knew what was happening they were out of sight, and the star was gone.

The water sprite was so astonished that he forgot he was angry.

“Who are they?” he said, in a kind of whisper.

“They’re the starlight fairies,” said Merrimeg. “They hang out the stars each night, and to-night they dropped that star by accident, and it fell into your pool. If they don’t get it back they can’t go home.”

“But they killed my children and----”

At that moment the lost star appeared over the tree tops, coming on towards them in a streak of white light, and in another moment the three starlight fairies stood on the ground, and Winnie was swinging the star in her hand.

“Oh! oh!” she said, and began to laugh and cry at the same time. She couldn’t say another word, for joy.

“We’ve got it!” cried Florrie. “We can go home now!”

“But what about these poor babies?” said Merrimeg. “Can’t we do anything for them?”

The three fairies knelt around the three tiny bodies on the ground, and looked closely at their foreheads.

“Why,” said Pennie, “it’s nothing but a bruise!”

“So it is,” said Winnie and Florrie together.

“Is that all?” said Merrimeg.

“Is that _all_?” said the water sprite, looking very helpless and pitiful.

“Yaa! yaa!” came a little piping cry from the grass, and the water sprite dropped to the ground beside the babies.

“He’s crying!” sang out the water sprite. “His eyes are open!”

Another little cry and another came from the grass, and the water sprite sang out again:

“They’re _all_ crying! They’re _all_ coming to! They’re _all_ right! Hurrah!”

He picked up the three babies and bundled them in his arms, and without another word gave a leap into the water and splash! went down and out of sight, babies and all.

Florrie laughed, Winnie laughed, and Pennie and Merrimeg laughed too.

“But I’m sorry his house is ruined,” said Merrimeg.

“Oh, he’ll mend it in no time,” said Florrie. “But see, Merrimeg, you’re all wet!”

“Goodness!” said Merrimeg. “I’d forgotten all about it.”

“Stand here,” said Florrie, and she and the other two fairies placed Merrimeg in the middle and turned their backs to her.

Their wings began to flutter gently, and then began to move faster and faster, making a strong breeze which blew all over Merrimeg. Fanned in this way by the great butterfly wings, she was soon dry.

“Good-by, Merrimeg,” said Florrie.

“Good-by, dear Merrimeg,” said each of the others.

“Thank you for my star,” said Winnie. “You must think of us whenever you look up at the stars.”

“Indeed I will,” said Merrimeg.

The starlight fairies stood on tiptoe for a moment, and fluttered their wings; and then they rose quietly in the air, and flew straight up. When they were above the tree tops, they began to circle round and round, going higher and higher; far, far up through the night they went on circling; and long after Merrimeg could see them no more, she could see the star, bright as a diamond, go circling up and up....

She ran away home, and crept in quietly at the front door, and lay down in her bed and snuggled under the covers. Her mother was still asleep. She must have gone to sleep herself presently; she woke up and thought of the lost star, and remembered that she had not waited to see if it was in its place. She got out of bed and tiptoed to the window, and putting her head out looked up.

A star was sparkling just overhead, where there had been none before. The star was in its place.

“I’m glad of that,” she said out loud.

“What did you say?” said her mother, waking up.

“I was only saying--only saying----”

“Never mind what you were saying. Go back to bed, and go to sleep. You’ll catch your death of cold.”

“Yes, mother,” said Merrimeg.

_MERRIMEG AND THE ECHO DWARFS_

“Now, Merrimeg,” said Merrimeg’s mother, “take this basket and go to the brook in the woods, and bring me back a basketful of water cress for supper. And be sure to come straight back.”

“Yes, mother,” said Merrimeg. And she went off down the village street singing, with her basket on her arm. But first she put in her pocket the blue saltcellar from the kitchen, full of salt.

She walked a long way into the woods, and at last she came to a little brook running along over the stones. There in the clear water she found plenty of fresh green water cress growing. She pulled it up by the handful and filled her basket with it.

She knew that she ought to go straight home, but this was not one of her days for being good. She left the basket on the grass, and took out of her pocket the saltcellar with the salt in it. Then she looked around for birds.

A blue bird came hopping by on the ground, and Merrimeg stole up behind it on tiptoe, and sprinkled a little salt right down over its tail. But just at that minute the bird flew up into a tree, and Merrimeg was too late.

Off went the bird from tree to tree, and Merrimeg ran after it as fast as she could, holding out her saltcellar. Pretty soon the bird hopped down onto the ground again, and Merrimeg tiptoed up behind it and sprinkled her salt down over its tail. But she was just a bit too late, and the bird flew up into a tree.

Merrimeg followed the bird a long, long way, and whenever it hopped down onto the ground she tried to sprinkle a little salt on its tail; but she was always just a wee bit too late.

At last, when she was at the foot of a hill that rose up out of the woods, she stamped her foot and cried out:

“Oh, you good-for-nothing naughty bird!”

“Naughty bird!” came back her own voice to her from the top of the hill.

Merrimeg was astonished. She had never heard an echo before.

She thought she would try it again, so she called out:

“Oh, you naughty bird, come down here!”

Her own voice came back to her from the same place up the hill, but it didn’t quite repeat her words; it said:

“Come on down!”

The echo must have made a mistake. Merrimeg was more than ever astonished. She waited a minute, and then the same voice came down to her from the top of the hill, and it said:

“Down here!”

The echo had got it right this time. Evidently it must have been a very young echo indeed.

Merrimeg forgot all about the blue bird, and she began to climb the hill to find out who it was that was mocking her.

She didn’t know it, but there was an Echo Dwarf who lived in a cave near the top of the hill, and there lived with him his little boy, a very little boy, who was just learning how to make echoes. Big Hark was the father’s name. Little Hark was the little boy’s name. Big Hark had a great deal of trouble in teaching Little Hark to make echoes, for Little Hark often forgot, and instead of calling back the same words he had heard, he would often call back words of his own. Besides, if the words he had to call back were big words, he always got them mixed up. His father never knew when he was going to make a mess of everything. And when he did that, it made Big Hark so angry he could hardly speak.

Merrimeg went on up the hill, and pretty soon she called out again:

“Why couldn’t I catch the bird with my salt?”

“Too slow!” came back the voice from the top of the hill.

Merrimeg couldn’t understand this at all. She listened for a minute, and then she heard another voice up above her:

“My salt! Oxtragob borgs, gooblik!”

This was Little Hark’s father, and when he said “Oxtragob borgs, gooblik!” he meant, in the private language of the Echo Dwarfs, “Wrong again, stupid!”

Big Hark and Little Hark were standing in front of their cave, and Big Hark was letting Little Hark practice at making echoes, as Merrimeg came up the hill. Not many people came that way, and Big Hark was glad of the chance to give his little boy a lesson.

Merrimeg came on further and further up the hill, and after a while she stopped and called out again:

“Are you still there?”

“Still there!” came back the voice.

This made her quite angry. She did not like to be mocked every time she opened her mouth. She cried out:

“Stop mocking me!”

“Mocking me!” came back the voice.

This made her very angry indeed. Without saying anything more she clambered on up the hill and stopped all out of breath on a little ledge before the mouth of a cave. There a little further on along the path was standing Little Hark himself, with his hands up to his mouth, all ready to shout back an echo. His father had gone inside the cave.

Little Hark was very small indeed, and Merrimeg looked quite like a giant beside him. She ran to him and stood over him and shook her finger at him and said:

“What do you mean by mocking me all the time?”

“All the time?” said Little Hark, looking very much frightened.

“Yes, all the time!” said Merrimeg. “What do you mean by it?”

“Mean by it?” said the little Echo Dwarf.

“Don’t you dare repeat everything I say to you!” cried Merrimeg. “You naughty thing, you’re mocking me!”

“You’re mocking me!” said Little Hark, beginning to cry.

“Why, you awful little thing, I’m not!” cried Merrimeg. “How dare you say such a thing? How dare you?”

“How dare you?” said Little Hark, crying harder.

This made Merrimeg very angry, so angry that she could not say another word. She seized hold of Little Hark’s arm and shook him. There she was shaking him, pretty hard too, and Little Hark was bawling out loud, when Big Hark, his father, came out of the cave and hurried towards them to see what was the matter.

Big Hark was very strong, though he was not very big. He threw his arms around Merrimeg and dragged her away from Little Hark and hauled her along to the cave and pulled her into it. Before she knew it her arms were bound up tight with tough vines which Big Hark had snatched down from the wall.

Big Hark made her sit down on the floor with her back against the wall, and he and Little Hark stood before her. Little Hark looked at his father and said:

“Kormsdee lokspit calliper?”

This meant, in the private language of the Echo Dwarfs, “What are you going to do with her?”

“Lokspit meegs,” said Big Hark, “doomdog askbiddle beddagog diskorfunjax krissmuss.”

This meant, “I am going to keep her here for seven Christmases, for you to practice your echo lessons on.”

“Snexterbean?” asked Little Hark. This meant, “What then?”

“Lokspit snexter,” said Big Hark, “flambilly noformikin beskeem.” This meant, as you may imagine, “I am then going to give her to the Fire Bubbles at the back of the cave.”

Merrimeg tried to get her arms loose, and cried out:

“I want to go home! I want to go home!”

Big Hark nudged Little Hark, reminding him to practice his echo, and Little Hark said:

“Go home!”

“All right, then, I will!” cried Merrimeg, and she struggled to her feet and started to run towards the mouth of the cave. But Big Hark caught her and held her, and she cried out:

“Let me go! Let me go!”

“Go!” said Little Hark, echoing her words, and Merrimeg cried:

“I can’t! He won’t let me!”

Now Little Hark should have said “Let me!” But he forgot all about echoing her words, and he shouted out two words of his own.

“Run back!” he cried, and this was what gave Merrimeg her chance to escape. For Big Hark was so angry at Little Hark’s forgetting to echo back Merrimeg’s own words, and calling back words of his own instead, which was strictly forbidden, that he let go of Merrimeg and turned round on Little Hark and shook his finger at him and shouted, “Let me! Oxtragob borgs, gooblik!” and boxed Little Hark’s ears with all his might and main.

Little Hark broke out crying, and Merrimeg dashed away into the dark at the back of the cave, and ran on faster and faster into the darkness. Pretty soon she heard Big Hark shout out something in his own language, and she knew that he was running after her. So she ran on faster than before, and in a moment she struck against a wall in the dark, and feeling it with her hands she turned a corner and saw something which almost made her stop breathing.

It was a stream of sparkling red fire, running across the ground right in her path.

As she looked at it, an enormous bubble, like a soap bubble, but red-hot and shining like fire, rose from the stream and floated up in the air towards her. She crouched down, and the Fire Bubble floated up to the ceiling and burst with a loud crack and a shower of sparks; and then another one rose from the stream and floated towards her and broke against the ceiling; and then another and another, one right after the other.

Merrimeg was frightened so that she couldn’t move. She didn’t dare to go on, and she didn’t dare to go back. She heard the voice of Big Hark behind her in the dark, crying out: “Sdig! sdig!” And at that moment she----

Well, she heard another voice, from the other side of the Fire Bubbles, and it said:

“I believe it is, brother, I believe it is.”

Merrimeg clapped her hands with joy and cried: “Here I am! Help me! Help me!”

Big Hark’s voice behind her echoed her words, “Help me!” and the other voice, on the far side of the Fire Bubbles, said:

“I suppose we’d better help her, brother Nibby.”

“I’m quite of your opinion, brother, quite,” said the voice of brother Nibby.

“Quite,” said Big Hark, in echo, just behind Merrimeg. As he said this he threw his arms around her and began to drag her back into the cave. Little Hark came running up, and he tugged at his father’s coat and said, “Skeems non doogdag, himpotter,” which meant, “Please don’t hurt her, father.”

But he hadn’t any more than said these words than Malkin and Nibby, the two gnomes, rushed across the stream of fire, knocking the Fire Bubbles right and left with their hands, and Malkin picked up Little Hark, slung him on his shoulder, and ran back with him across the stream of fire, knocking the Fire Bubbles right and left as he ran.

“Ishkameerz! O ishkameerz!” cried Big Hark, and he let go of Merrimeg and rushed down to the stream of fire, holding out his hands towards the little boy on the other side. But he did not dare go near the fire.

“I believe now maybe he’ll give her up,” said Malkin from the other side of the fire.

“Give her up!” said Little Hark, struggling on Malkin’s shoulder.

“Fee skimble fen bitkin, fee skimble fen moklin!” shouted Big Hark, which meant, “If you’ll give up the boy, I’ll give up the maiden!”

“Good!” cried Malkin.

“Good!” said Little Hark.

Nibby the gnome ran to Merrimeg and unfastened the vines that bound her arms, and lifted her up and carried her across the stream of fire, knocking the Fire Bubbles away with his hand, so that she wasn’t harmed in the least; and at the same time brother Malkin crossed the stream of fire and put down Little Hark beside his father.

“Hurry! hurry!” cried Merrimeg, and pulled the two gnomes away into the darkness beyond the fire.

“Farewell!” cried Malkin.

“Good-by!” called back Little Hark, and his father shook him by the shoulder and said, “Oxtragob borgs, gooblik!” which meant, as you know, “Wrong again, stupid!”

“Take me home quick,” said Merrimeg as she went on between the two gnomes deeper and deeper into the darkness.

“She’s not very polite to-day, brother,” said Malkin.

“Not very, brother, not very, indeed,” said Nibby. “She really ought to say ‘Please,’ I think.”

“Maybe something’s happened to bother her,” said Malkin.

“Maybe so, maybe so,” said Nibby. “I wonder what it could be.”

They went down into the earth for a long way, and then they went up under the earth for a long way, and at last they stopped.

“Here we are, brother Nibby,” said Malkin, and he appeared to be opening a door.

“Home again, brother Malkin,” said Nibby, and the three of them climbed a ladder, and Nibby raised a door overhead, and the next minute they were in the gnomes’ kitchen.

Malkin and Nibby sat themselves down at their little table, where a candle was burning, and Malkin said:

“I suppose we’d better ask her to stay to supper, brother.”

“Just what I was thinking,” said Nibby. “But which one of us will ask her?”

“Oh, _you_ must be the one to do that, brother.”

“Oh, no, you can do it so much better, brother Malkin. _You_ must----”

“Goodness gracious me!” said Merrimeg. “You don’t need to ask me. I can’t stay anyway.”

“Not very polite to-day, brother, not very polite,” said Malkin.

“I’m afraid not, brother, I’m afraid not,” said Nibby.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Merrimeg. “Please excuse me. I really have to go home. And I’m ever so much obliged to you.”

She climbed the ladder to the ceiling and went up through the little door there, and calling down good-by she stepped out onto the roof of the gnomes’ house, and closed down the door after her.

She ran as fast as she could through the woods, until she came to the brook where she had left her basket. There it was, full of water cress, just as she had left it. She snatched it up and ran all the way home.

When she came in at the kitchen door of her house, her mother was rummaging in the cupboard, as if she were looking for something she had lost.

“Well, Merrimeg, you’ve been a precious long time getting a little basketful of water cress. I’ve lost my blue saltcellar with the salt in it. Do you think you can find it?”

Merrimeg suddenly found that the saltcellar was no longer in her pocket. She must have lost it somewhere in the woods.

“No, mother,” said she.

_MERRIMEG AND THE RAG-BONE MAN_

“Rags! bones! old iron!”

Merrimeg put her head out of the front window and looked down the street.

A queer man with a dirty face was coming along, and he was bending down under a heavy sack which he was carrying on his back.

“Rags! bones! old iron!” he cried, and all the children who were playing in the street ran indoors in a fright.

It was the Rag-Bone Man. Everybody said that if you didn’t look sharp he’d snatch you up and stuff you in his sack and carry you off and never, never bring you back any more; so all the children in that village were terribly afraid of him, and whenever they saw him coming they simply took to their heels and fled.

“Rags! bones! old iron!” cried the Rag-Bone Man.

“Oh, pshaw,” said Merrimeg, “_I’m_ not afraid.”

She went out into the street and watched him coming. He came on nearer and nearer. He reached the house next door and stopped there and stared at Merrimeg.

“Rags! bones! old iron!” he shouted out, at the top of his voice, and quick as a wink Merrimeg sprang back into the house and banged the door and bolted it and ran to her room and buried her head under the pillows. It was a long time before she came out again.

When she did come out, she didn’t go into the street, because the Rag-Bone Man was still there, probably. She went into the cabbage garden, where her mother was hanging up clothes.

“Where are you going, Merrimeg?” said her mother.

“Nowhere,” said Merrimeg.

“You’d better go over to Tish’s house now. They’re expecting you to have supper with them. And don’t get your dress soiled, and don’t stay too late.”

“No’m,” said Merrimeg.

“Before you go, take these handkerchiefs and spread them out on the rose bushes in the sun to dry.”

“Yes’m,” said Merrimeg.

Her mother kissed her, and went into the kitchen; and Merrimeg, carrying the wet handkerchiefs, walked over to the apple orchard, thinking about apples, and forgetting all about the rose bushes. She always liked to eat apples just before meals.

In the orchard she stopped under a tree and reached up towards the lowest branch, and just at that moment she heard the sound of some one crying. It seemed to come from the other side of the tree. She tiptoed around the tree to see who it was.

It was the Rag-Bone Man. He was sitting on the ground, with his back against the tree, and his sack beside him, and he was crying to himself pretty loud, and sniffling and wiping away the tears with the back of his hand.

Merrimeg was so frightened that she could not move.

“Gimme a handkerchief, quick,” said the Rag-Bone Man, and he snatched the handkerchiefs out of her hand and put one of them to his nose.

“Oh!” he said, and threw the handkerchiefs down. “They’re wet! They won’t do! What good is a wet handkerchief? Haven’t you got a dry one?”

“No, sir,” said Merrimeg, in a shaky little voice.

“Then it’s no use,” said the Rag-Bone Man. “I reckon I’ll have to stop crying. You can’t cry without a handkerchief. Why didn’t you bring me a dry one?”

“I didn’t know you wanted one,” said Merrimeg.

“Well, you didn’t think I could cry into a wet one, did you? You don’t expect me to do that, do you? Do you, or don’t you?”

“No, sir,” said Merrimeg.

“The next time you come around me when I’m crying, you bring me a dry one, d’you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” said Merrimeg.

“Don’t say ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ all the time. Why don’t you ask me what I’m crying about?”

“Yes, sir,” said Merrimeg, twisting her apron. “I mean--if you please----”

“I’m crying about--I’m crying about--oh, dear! I’m going to cry again, I _know_ I am! And I _never_ have any handkerchief!”

He burst into tears again, and Merrimeg began to feel sorry for him.

“Yes, sir?” said she.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand, and smeared the dirt all over it most terribly.

“It’s--it’s--about the children,” he said, crying out louder than before. “I can’t--I can’t--help it. It’s because they--they won’t come near me--they’re afraid of me--they won’t speak to me--they won’t let me tell ’em about Rags--they run away from me--oh, it’s too hard, it’s too hard!”

He sniffled and gulped. Merrimeg felt very sorry for him indeed.

“Please, sir,” said she, “do you want----”

“I want a handkerchief. Look in that bag and see if you can find one. Oh, dear! If the children would only let me speak to ’em! Then I could tell ’em all about Rags! Why don’t you hurry? Can’t you see I need a handkerchief? Will you, or won’t you?”

Merrimeg quickly opened the sack. She put her head down into it and looked in; and before she knew what was going on her heels were lifted up and she was plopped down head first into the bag, and there she was, tied up tight inside the rag-bone sack.

She kicked and screamed, but it wasn’t any use. The Rag-Bone Man slung the sack on his back and made off through the orchard as fast as he could go.

Merrimeg stopped kicking, when she found it wasn’t any use, and after a long time she came down on the ground with a bump, and she heard the Rag-Bone Man call out, “Open the door!”

The sack was untied, and she stood up. She was standing before a little house in the woods, and the trees about it were dark and gloomy, and the sun had gone down.

The door of the little house opened, and a little girl, smaller than Merrimeg, stood in the doorway. She was a very ragged little girl, and her face was dirty and sad. She looked at Merrimeg with big solemn eyes.

“I’ve brought you one at last!” cried the Rag-Bone Man. “Here she is! I’ve got one for you at last! Somebody to play with! Here she is, and she’s going to stay with you and play with you, and never go home any more! Now we’ve got her we’ll _keep_ her. Now you’ll have company! Ain’t she a pretty one, though? Ain’t I a good father? Come in, come on in!”