He laid his finger on his nose as he spoke, gave a jump like a grasshopper, clapping on his cap as he went, and vanished.  Toinette lingered a moment, in hopes that he might come back, then took her pitcher and hurried home.  The woods were very dusky by this time; but full of her strange adventures, she did not remember to feel afraid.

“How long you have been,” said her mother.  “It’s late for a little maid like you to be up.  You must make better speed another time, my child.”

Toinette pouted as she was apt to do when reproved.  The children clamoured to know what had kept her, and she spoke pettishly and crossly; so that they too became cross, and presently went away into the outer kitchen to play by themselves.  The children were apt to creep away when Toinette came.  It made her angry and unhappy at times that they should do so, but she did not realize that it was in great part her own fault, and so did not set herself to mend it.

“Tell me a ’tory,” said baby Jeanneton, creeping to her knee a little later.  But Toinette’s head was full of the elf; she had no time to spare for Jeanneton.

“Oh, not to-night,” she replied.  “Ask mother to tell you one.”

“Mother’s busy,” said Jeanneton wistfully.

Toinette took no notice and the little one crept away disconsolately.

Bedtime at last.  Toinette set the casement open, and lay a long time waiting and watching; then she fell asleep.  She waked with a sneeze and jump and sat up in bed.  Behold, on the coverlet stood her elfin friend, with a long train of other elves beside him, all clad in the beetle-wing green, and wearing little pointed caps.  More were coming in at the window; outside a few were drifting about in the moon rays, which lit their sparkling robes till they glittered like so many fireflies.  The odd thing was, that though the caps were on, Toinette could see the elves distinctly and this surprised her so much, that again she thought out loud and said, “How funny.”

“You mean about the caps,” replied her special elf, who seemed to have the power of reading thought.

“Yes, you can see us to-night, caps and all.  Spells lose their value on Christmas Eve, always.  Peascod, where is the box?  Do you still wish to try the experiment of being invisible, Toinette?”

“Oh, yes—­indeed I do.”

“Very well; so let it be.”

As he spoke he beckoned, and two elves puffing and panting like little men with a heavy load, dragged forward a droll little box about the size of a pumpkin-seed.

One of them lifted the cover.

“Pay the porter, please, ma’am,” he said giving Toinette’s ear a mischievous tweak with his sharp fingers.

“Hands off, you bad Peascod!” cried Toinette’s elf.  “This is my girl.  She shan’t be pinched!” He dealt Peascod a blow with his tiny hand as he spoke and looked so brave and warlike that he seemed at least an inch taller than he had before.  Toinette admired him very much; and Peascod slunk away with an abashed giggle muttering that Thistle needn’t be so ready with his fist.