The merry notes were heard in the village below, and the people were much astonished thereby.  “Why, who can be blowing the pipes of Old Pipes?” they said.  But, as they were all very busy, no one went up to see.  One thing, however, was plain enough:  the cattle were coming down the mountain.  And so the two boys and the girl did not have to go after them, and had an hour for play, for which they were very glad.

The next morning Old Pipes started down to the village with his money, and on the way he met the Dryad.  “Oh, ho!” he cried, “is that you?  Why, I thought my letting you out of the tree was nothing but a dream.”

“A dream!” cried the Dryad; “if you only knew how happy you have made me, you would not think it merely a dream.  And has it not benefited you?  Do you not feel happier?  Yesterday I heard you playing beautifully on your pipes.”

“Yes, yes,” cried he.  “I did not understand it before, but I see it all now.  I have really grown younger.  I thank you, I thank you, good Dryad, from the bottom of my heart.  It was the finding of the money in my pocket that made me think it was a dream.”

“Oh, I put it in when you were asleep,” she said, laughing, “because I thought you ought to keep it.  Good-by, kind, honest man.  May you live long, and be as happy as I am now.”

Old Pipes was greatly delighted when he understood that he was really a younger man; but that made no difference about the money, and he kept on his way to the village.  As soon as he reached it, he was eagerly questioned as to who had been playing his pipes the evening before, and when the people heard that it was himself, they were very much surprised.  Thereupon, Old Pipes told what had happened to him, and then there was greater wonder, with hearty congratulations and hand-shakes; for Old Pipes was liked by every one.  The Chief Villager refused to take his money, and, although Old Pipes said that he had not earned it, every one present insisted that, as he would now play on his pipes as before, he should lose nothing, because, for a time, he was unable to perform his duty.

So Old Pipes was obliged to keep his money, and after an hour or two spent in conversation with his friends, he returned to his cottage.

There was one individual, however, who was not at all pleased with what had happened to Old Pipes.  This was an Echo-dwarf, who lived on the hills on the other side of the valley, and whose duty it was to echo back the notes of the pipes whenever they could be heard.  There were a great many other Echo-dwarfs on these hills, some of whom echoed back the songs of maidens, some the shouts of children, and others the music that was often heard in the village.  But there was only one who could send back the strong notes of the pipes of Old Pipes, and this had been his sole duty for many years.  But when the old man grew feeble, and the notes of his pipes could not be heard on the opposite hills, this Echo-dwarf had nothing to do, and he spent his time in delightful idleness; and he slept so much and grew so fat that it made his companions laugh to see him walk.