The Windfairies

she waits his return now and longs for him to come. Therefore she promised to keep me with her, but now I dare not go into the cottage, because my father, who is a gipsy, is there, and I am afraid lest he may take me away with him.”

When the potter heard that the gipsy man was there he would have run straight into the cottage, but the boy implored him to listen first and hear what he was saying. So they crept round to the side of the cottage, and they heard the gipsy man growing angry, and threatening the potter’s wife, that if she did not tell him where his boy had gone he would seize her by the hair and wring her throat, in spite of her being so fair a woman. At this the potter waited no longer, but burst into the cottage, and seized the gipsy and hurled him out of the house with all his might; but he and his wife never looked to see if he was hurt or no, for they looked at nothing but each other and the little child that the potter’s wife held by the hand. And the gipsy man went away, and they never heard of him again.

Then the potter’s wife showed her husband the gipsy boy, and told him of her promise to his mother, and of all he had done for her, and begged him that he would let her keep him with them. And the potter promised that she should, and said that when he grew up to be a man he would teach him his trade, and make him a potter like himself. So they all lived happily together, and the gipsy boy learned to make cups and bowls, and was very clever at doing them, but they were cups and bowls that carried no charms with them, and so could do no one any harm that drank from them.

The Story of a Cat

Once there lived an old gentleman who was a very rich old gentleman, and able to buy nearly everything he wanted. He had earned all his wealth for himself by trading in a big city, and now he had grown so fond of money that he loved it better than anything else in the world, and thought of nothing except how he could save it up and make more. But he never seemed to have time to enjoy himself with all that he had earned, and he was very angry if he was asked to give money to others. He lived in a handsome house all alone, and he had a very good cook who cooked him a sumptuous dinner every day, but he rarely asked anyone to share it with him, though he loved eating and drinking, and always had the best of wine and food. His cook and his other servants knew that he was greedy and hard, and cared for nobody, and though they served him well because he paid them, they none of them loved him.

It was one Christmas, and the snow lay thick upon the ground, and the wind howled so fiercely that the old gentleman was very glad he was not obliged to go out into the street, but could sit in his comfortable armchair by the fire and keep warm.

“It really is terrible weather,” he said to himself, “terrible weather;” and he went to the window and looked out into the street, where all the pavements were inches deep in snow. “I am very glad that I need not go out at all, but can sit here and keep warm for today, that is the great thing, and I shall have some ado to keep out the cold even here with the fire.”

He was leaving the window, when there came up in the street outside an old man, whose clothes hung in rags about him, and who looked half frozen. He was about the same age as the old gentleman inside the window, and the same height, and had grey, curly hair, like his, and if they had been dressed alike anyone would have taken them for two brothers.

“Oh, really,” said the old gentleman irritably, “this is most annoying. The parish ought to take up these sort of people, and prevent their wandering about the streets and molesting honest folk,” for the poor old man had taken off his hat, and began to beg.

“It is Christmas Day,” he said, and though he did not speak very loud, the old gentleman could hear every word he said quite plainly through the window. “It is Christmas Day, and you will have your dinner here in your warm room. Of your charity give me a silver shilling that I may go into an eating-shop, and have a dinner too.”

“A silver shilling!” cried the old gentleman, “I never heard of such a thing! Monstrous! Go away, I never give to beggars, and you must have done something very wicked to become so poor.”

But still the old man stood there, though the snow was falling on his shoulders, and on his bare head. “Then give me a copper,” he said; “just one penny, that today I may not starve.”

“Certainly not,” cried the old gentleman; “I tell you I never give to beggars at all.” But the old man did not move.

“Then,” he said, “give me some of the broken victuals from your table, that I may creep into a doorway and eat a Christmas dinner there.”

“I will give you nothing,” cried the old gentleman, stamping his foot. “Go away. Go away at once, or I shall send for the policeman to take you away.”

The old beggar-man put on his hat and turned quietly away, but what the old gentleman thought was very odd was, that instead of seeming distressed he was laughing merrily, and then he looked back at the window, and called out some words, but they were in a foreign tongue, and