THE LITTLE GREEN ONES 905
and gaze on their beauty. Perhaps a story lies in every one of them. And the bubble grew so big with glittering colours, and in it there lay, as it were, a silver pearl at the bottom. The bubble floated and soared, flew against the the door and burst; but the door flew open, and there stood Mother Fairy Tale herself.
; Yes, now she can tell better than I can about—I will not say the name !—the little green ones.' ' Plant-lice,' said Mother Fairy Tale. ' One should call everything by its right name ; and if one dares not do it as a usual thing, one can do it in a fairy tale.'
BROWNIE AND THE DAME
You know the brownie, but do you know the dame, the gardener's dame ?' She had learning, knew verses by heart, could even write them herself with ease ; only the rhymes, ' clinchings ', she called them, caused her a little trouble. She had the gift of writing, and of talking ; she might very well have been a pastor, or at least a pastor's wife. ' The earth is lovely in its Sunday gown,' said she, and this thought she had put into words and 'clinching', and had set it in a poem, so long and beautiful. The student, Mr. Kisserup (the name has nothing to do with the story), was a nephew, and on a visit to the gardener ; he heard the dame's poem, and it did him good, he said—ever so much good. ' You have soul, madam,' said he.
1 Stuff and nonsense,' said the gardener, ' don't be putting such ideas into her head ! a woman should be a body, a decent body, and look after her pot, so that the porridge may not be burned.'
' I will take away that burnt taste with a piece of burning charcoal,' said the dame, 'and then I will take the burnt taste from you with a little kiss. One would think that you only thought of cabbages and potatoes, and yet you love the flowers !' and so she kissed him. ' The flowers are the soul,' said she.
' Look after your pot,' said he, and went into the garden : that was his pot, and he looked after it. But the student sat and talked with the dame. Her beautiful words, ' The