THE ELF OF LIGHT.
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"Now I wonder what it is you have seen," said the good woman, raising her hands in surprise. "Was he brown, my son, with a long nose?"
"As brown as a nut, mother, with no end of nose."
"Just as I supposed, my child! That dwarf is a wonderful creature,—one of the night-elves, a race gifted with great understanding. Know, my son, that he carves runes upon stones; and he no doubt assisted in making Thor's hammer, that terrible instrument which can crush the skull of a giant."
"One thing I observed," said the boy: "he blinked at that flashing in the sky, which people call Northern Lights; he had to shade his eyes with his funny little hand."
"Did he, indeed? Poor Elf! Light is painful to his race; and I have even heard that
