him," said the blacksmith so softly that his own ears could scarcely hear. And without making the least bit of noise in the world that ever was heard, he tip-toed up behind the wee small body, opened his hand, and—snatched him up, crying, "Ha, ha, I have you." With that he opened two fingers to take a look, when—out jumped the elf, crying, "Ho, ho, see me go," and away he did go like a streak of lightning.
But he left the wee bit horseshoe in the blacksmith's hand. And it did bring him good luck, so that ever after he had plenty to do. So many horses and colts and wild mares came to be shod that he had to build a larger shop with nine-and-seven stalls.
When the blacksmith died, he left the good luck fairy horseshoe to his sons, and they left it to their sons, and they left it to their sons; so that if they haven't lost it the blacksmith's great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandchildren have it yet.
—Angela M. Keyes
THE MOUSE AND THE SAUSAGE
Once upon a time a little mouse and a little sausage, who loved each other like sisters, decided to live together. They planned it so that every day one would go to walk in the fields, or to buy things in the town, and the other would stay at home to keep the house.
