CHAPTER VII

Knops now led Leo through so many places full of machines and contrivances which the water-power kept active that he was glad when they went up a long inclined plane, and came out into a wide gallery lined with mother-of-pearl, and paved with exquisite sea-shells.

Here was a luxurious couch of beautiful feathers, the plumage of birds he had never beheld, and he was not sorry to see Paz bringing out another dozen of tarts for his refreshment.  As he ate them, he asked of Knops, who was peeling a lime, “Have you no women and children among your elves?”

“Oh yes,” said Knops, smiling; “but they are not to be found near our workshops.”

“Where, then, do they live?”

Knops put on an air of mystery as he replied:  “I am not permitted to reveal everything concerning us, dear Leo.  Our private life is of no public interest; but I may tell you that our children are bred entirely in the open air.  Many an empty bird’s nest is used as an elf cradle, for so highly do we esteem pure air, sunshine, and exposure as a means of making our children hardy, that we even accustom them to danger, and let them, like the birds, face the fury of the weather.”

“And do they all work as you do?”

“They do, not at the same employments, nor is all our labor done by hand, as you might suppose.  The songs which you hear are not all sung by birds or insects, the crying child has often a pretty tale whispered in his ear to soothe his grief or passion, and your garden roses are witness to many a worm in the bud choked by the hand of an elf.  But we have many tribes, and the habits of each are different.  I do not conceal that much trouble is made by some of them.  But look at the Indians of North America and the Afghans of Asia.”

Leo was yawning again fearfully, when a little “turn, turn, turn,” came to his ears, and as Knops ceased speaking a band of elves, habited as troubadours in blue and silver, with long white plumes in their velvet caps, climbed over the balustrade and began to play on zithers.

The music was a gentle tinkle, not unlike a rippling brook, and appeared to be in honor of Master Knops, who listened with pleased attention, and dismissed them politely.

Then came a message for Knops.  A council was awaiting his presence; so, leaving Leo to Paz, with promise of a speedy return, he departed.

“How do you get about so fast?” asked Leo.  Paz took from his pocket a tiny pipe, curiously carved from a nut; then he opened a small ivory box, showing Leo a wad of something which looked like raw cotton sprinkled with black seeds.

“One whiff of this, as it burns in my pipe, and I can wish myself where I please.”

“Let me have a try,” said Leo, taking up the pipe.

Paz smiled.  “It would have no more effect upon you than so much tobacco—­not as much, probably, for tobacco makes you deathly sick, does it not?”